Leonardo's Angel
by Mikell
Summary: #4-SEQUEL Leonardo's always been the protector, the defender, the Leader. When Raph is injured, why does the woman helping his brother have such a strange effect on him? Can he learn to forgive himself, embrace hope, and believe in love?COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1 Leap of Faith

**A/N: By popular demand, I'm beginning this a day early. (My dear readers, forgive me, but... You're gonna be so-rrrrrr-y.) heh  
Yeah, that's a cliffy warning. In the very first chapter. Might just as well get used to it, there are quite a few in this book. Because of all four brothers, Leo is the most stubborn and bone-headed of them all. :-p  
**

**Once again, the series is as follows: Book 1: _Mikey in Love_. Book 2: _Raph & Ann. _Book 3: _Donatello Lost_. Book 4: _Leonardo's Angel_.**

**The usual disclaimer applies. I own no turtles. not a single one. Unless you count the little glass ones that come in the tea-boxes. Those are mine. But they don't fight bad guys and Bishop doesn't want to dissect them and find out what color their organs are. Or maybe he does. You never know with that guy, he's a real nut-case. I'm actually rather glad I don't own him, either. I wouldn't have a clue what to do with him, he doesn't match anything in my house. **

**I do want to thank the owners and creators of our beloved TMNT for the joy their work has brought to me and for allowing us to tarry with their characters in the world of fan-fiction.  
**

**Ok, on with the show!  
**

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_Chapter 1 -Leap of Faith-  
~~~_

Raphael jumped, knowing the next rooftop was too far away. It wasn't even flat. The old building had a peaked roof with dormers jutting out at various intervals. He knew he'd never make it. He only hoped he could draw enough of the fifty or so Foot soldiers hot on his heels into following him into the foolhardy jump, and give his brothers a chance to escape.

The fight had been raging for a while. Leo was injured, fighting now with one hand, his katana flashing like lightening. There were too many. Raph and Leo had been holding them off, but Mike's leg was bleeding from a sword strike and a Foot's blade had nicked Don with a lucky score to the skin between his plastron and shell. With taunts and by taking down the majority of those he hit with extreme prejudice, Raph managed to draw most of their attention toward him. Raph heard them calling to one another in Japanese.

_Take the red one. _

He grinned maniacally. _Dat's right, boys. Come after da red one. _

He sailed, free falling for a long, breathtaking moment before the side of the building came rushing up. He missed the main roof and grabbed at the gutter, but it slid through his fingers, tearing away skin. His changed momentum carried him into a small dormer roof with a crash that resulted in instant, black unconsciousness.

***

Below, a young woman was polishing an ancient wooden bench, humming an aimless tune as she rubbed the lemon-scented spray into the wood. The crash made her drop the rag and cringe, staring around in shock. When the shuddering noise stopped, she made her way slowly, cautiously, up the stairs. She looked around the hallway, but saw nothing. The offices were all empty and silent. She even checked the closets expecting to find something, anything, had tipped over, creating such a racket, but still there was nothing out of place. Finally she headed toward the rarely-used storage room toward the back of the building. No one had been in that room in months, and there was little to collapse or fall over in there. Still, it was the only room left, and that crash had come from _somewhere_.

She reached the door to the storage room, and hesitated. The door was warped, the hinges stiff with age. She slowly pushed it open, wincing at the loud creak and the rattle of debris being pushed across the floor. She blinked. The normally dim, musty storage room was bright, fogged with a hazy glow.

_Fire_, was the first thought that came to her mind but there was no heat, no choking, smoky smell. The light was steady and clear, not the flickering yellow of flames. She gasped as she stepped into the room, noticing for the first time that the ceiling, indeed, the entire dormer _roof_ was now open to the sky.

Beams and studs showed like weathered bones where the plaster had been ripped away. She coughed as the dust tickled her nose and lungs. The walls' outer shells seemed mostly intact. Most of the roof was gone, as if… as if something had fallen _through_ it from above. She stepped into the room, staring up at the destruction, and nearly tripped over the prone form on the floor at her feet.

At first glance, she thought he was buried in debris from the roof, and she knelt, reaching to clear it away, to help him. She froze. A closer look revealed that the gold-and-brown carapace was part of his natural form. _What on earth?_ She took in the green skin, two-toed feet and three-fingered hands before she noticed the odd angle one of his legs was turned to, and the numerous cuts. One particularly nasty gash on his head was leaking quite an impressive amount of blood over the dusty floor.

She hesitated only an instant before kneeling near his head, checking for a pulse and beginning the work of stabilizing his neck and applying pressure to the head wound.

_Whatever you are, you're hurt and you need help. Thank goodness for the first aid training. I suppose it wasn't a total waste of time. _She quickly checked his vitals, relieved to find his breathing steady, if labored. _Sorry, Pastor Gene,_ she thought as she snatched a clean choir-robe from a hanger and began ripping it into strips to bind his head. She stopped up the leaks as best as she was able, and turned her attention to the leg. Best to set it now, before he woke up.

If_ he wakes up. Heaven knows what kind of damage he's sustained, with that head injury. _She tried to banish the thought from her mind. _Oh, Lord, protect him from damage. I can't take him to a hospital. I'll get him stabilized before I call Gene. His army training means his medical knowledge is far more advanced than my first aid courses. And he'll help this creature; I know he will. _

Working with quick, expert hands, she pulled the limb straight, working to align the broken bones properly, and splinted it with more strips torn from the choir robe and a piece of the wood from the broken roof. Satisfied that he was stable, she leaned back, considering her odd patient.

_I hate to move him, but I don't have a choice. He can't stay here. _She took hold of the top edge of his shell and very carefully dragged him out of the storage room. He was heavy, but she kept at her task, knowing the repairmen the Pastor would need to call in could not see him. _Heaven knows what they'd do with someone like you,_ she thought, gazing down at the dark green face. _Probably call the police. And then what? Scientists? Government agencies? Where would they put you? Probably in a zoo, if you were lucky. Certainly not in a hospital, which is where you should be. _She sighed. _Sometimes I don't like people very much._

Fortunately the counseling office was just down the hall, and there was a comfortable couch inside. She dragged him through the door, his carapace just clearing the entry. It took some effort, but eventually she was able to lift him onto the couch. She covered him with a blanket decorated with a verse that had been laid over the back of the sofa.

'_Some have entertained angels unaware'…_ _well, if that isn't appropriate, I don't know what is. He may be an unusual example of God's children, but his body structure suggests he's humanoid at least. I hope I'm not making a huge mistake. It's not every day that one meets… someone… like him. _

_Who says angels are white and wear wings? Perhaps they are green and wear shells to protect them during crash-landings._ A smile passed over her face. _I must call Pastor, though what he'll think of you, I don't know. Still… I've known him for a while now, and if he can hear my story without flinching, surely he can handle someone like you._ She turned to the desk, and picked up the telephone.

"Hello?" Gene Spencer's rich baritone rolled down the wires, bringing a smile to the woman's face.

"Pastor Gene? It's Sierra Jonstone. I'm at the church. I need you to come by. There's been an accident."

"Sierra, what happened? Are you all right? Do I need to call for help?"

"No, no, I'm fine. Can you please just come as soon as possible?"

"I know how you feel about hospitals, Sierra, but if you're injured…"

Sierra shook her head, though the man couldn't see her through the connection. "Gene, I'm fine, I promise you. The roof in the old storage room upstairs has been badly damaged and… I need you to bring some medical supplies. Bandages, antibiotics, something for… stitches."

"Sierra, what's happened?" The man's voice rose with alarm. "I'm calling an ambulance. Don't worry, I'll go to the hospital with you. I won't leave you alone, I promise…"

"No!" The woman's shout of desperation stopped his frantic outpouring. "No. Gene, _I'm _not hurt. And… the person who is _can't… _Please, Gene, just come. I'll explain everything when you get here, ok? Please, you know I wouldn't ask this of you if it weren't… necessary. Please, just come."

"All right, Sierra, but I'm not promising not to call an ambulance if I think this… _person_ needs one, all right?"

"All right," said Sierra. "You'll see why when you come. I'll see you soon."

Sierra put down the phone with a sigh. She turned to the still figure on the couch. "Now, what am I supposed to do with _you_?" she muttered.

She knelt beside him again, this time taking a closer look at the strange visitor. Her cursory examination and treatment had left quite a lot of blood and dust caked on the dark green skin. "It's a good thing Gene's known me for so long. Anyone else would've hung up and dialed 911. Gene wouldn't do that, though."

She looked the creature over, frowning. "I suppose the first thing is to clean you up," she said softly. Very gently, she reached up and removed the crimson mask that covered his face. With out it, he looked more vulnerable, softer somehow. She set the mask aside, and brushed a gentle hand over his forehead.

She got up and hurried to the restroom, wetting as many paper towels as she could carry with warm water. Rushing back to his side, she began sponging away the blood and dust that caked his face. Unwrapping his head wound, she checked to see that the bleeding had nearly stopped.

She tsk'd. _That really should be stitched,_ she thought, examining the gash. _For now we'll have to settle for binding it more carefully. Gene will be here soon; he'll know what to do._

Hearing footsteps downstairs, Sierra hurried to the door and slipped out. Something too-quiet about the movements in the sanctuary stopped her from calling out. Pastor Gene's footsteps were sure and distinct. The sounds she heard now rustled and slid through the church, the sounds muffled and barely noticeable.

She slid down the stairs, silent on the carpet, and peeked around the corner. Sierra was certain she saw movement, up in the front near the old wooden pulpit. She frowned, staring into the dark.

The light was dim and only shadows were visible, moving around the sanctuary. She hesitated. _Someone_ was in the church but whether they were friend or foe, she couldn't tell.

_It seems if they were friendly they would not need to sneak about in the house of God,_ she thought.

She turned, and started back up the stairs. She never saw the black-clad ninja slipping up behind, or heard the whistle of the truncheon as it came down on the back of her head.


	2. Chapter 2 I'll Never Leave You

**A/N: After uploading the first chapter early, I was sorely tempted to skip a day. But could I be so cruel? *sigh* I suppose not.  
Here you go.  


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**

_Chapter 2 -I'll Never Leave You-  
~~~_

Leonardo swung again and again, but it seemed as if the Foot soldiers would just not stop coming.

"Mikey!" he screamed, seeing the younger turtle go down. Donatello stood over his brother, defending him grimly as Michelangelo tried to get to his feet, swaying slightly from the hit to the chest he'd just taken. His nunchucks whistled.

"Raph drew most of them off, Leo," called Donatello. "They went after him. We've got to get _out_ of here while we can!"

"Fall back," cried Leo. "Mikey, Don, 3rd and Carter, _now_." He saw his brothers nod and they all started to strategically retreat toward Central park. They'd used this strategy before. Losing the Foot soldiers was easier in the shadows between the trees, and they could re-group at the manhole at the intersection. The soldiers, seeing the turtles' retreat, swarmed forward, grasping at what they thought was victory in the making. Leonardo smiled grimly.

_That's right; follow us into the woods, where we have the advantage from training on the farm._

Soon the welcoming shelter of Central park loomed around them. Leonardo was careful to keep track of his brothers, never losing sight of them as they picked off the black-clad ninjas following them. The ranks were growing thinner, but Karai's forces still pressed forward, determined not to lose their quarry.

"Leo!" Don's shout tore through the night as the team's leader took a lucky strike from a Foot bo staff. His injured arm was hindering him badly now, slowing his movements. Leonardo grunted with pain. In an instant, his brother was at his side, and the _clack_ of wood striking wood rang out as the staffs flew fast and furious. The Foot's skills were no match for Don's superior experience and confidence with his weapon, and soon he swept the ninja's feet out from under him, following up with a solid _thwack_ to the man's skull. Mikey whooped.

"All _right!_ Little Don does it again!" he cried.

_Oh, Mike,_ thought Leonardo. He would've laughed if not for the burning ache in his ribs that was making breathing harder work than it should've been. _If you don't stop calling him that, Don's likely to turn your Robin Hood DVD into plastic confetti._

The Foot seemed to sense that the turtles were not quite as defeated as they'd seemed, and fell back a bit. Leonardo heard one of their communicators beep.

"_Fall back. You are needed at our location."_

Suddenly the park was silent, devoid of the black-clad ninjas that only moments before had pressed the turtles for their very lives. Leonardo frowned.

"I don't like this," he hissed.

Michelangelo shook his head. "Leo, dude. Don't look a gift reprieve in the mouth."

"Mikey's right, Leo. Let's get out of here," said Donatello. Leo noticed the blood streaking down Don's side was fresh.

"Don, you're still bleeding?"

"A little." The purple-banded turtle pressed his hand to his side. "Every time I move, it opens up again."

"Oh, man. Bev's gonna have your _shell, _dude," said Michelangelo.

"Yeah, like Austin's not going to kick _your_ tail," shot back Don.

Leonardo grinned. _Looks like there might be trouble in paradise tonight,_ he thought. A frown creased his brow. _Of course, what Austin and Beverly say will be nothing to what Ann will do if Raphael gets himself hurt._

"Guys, head in. I'm going after Raph," said Leo. Two pairs of eyes swiveled to the older turtle.

"No." Don said simply.

"What?" Leonardo stared at his brother.

Donatello shook his head. "You're _not_ going alone, Leo. We're a team. If we can't raise Raph on his shell-cell, _then_ we'll go after him. All of us, together."

"He was being followed by too many, Don! What if they've caught up with him?" Leonardo glared at his younger brother. Arguing wasted precious time.

"What do you think you can do for him, with your arm?" shot back Don. "He'd have to fight to defend you as well as himself. We'll go together."

"Ok," conceded Leo reluctantly. "Let's start back. I'll call his shell-cell."

"Sounds good to me," said Mikey, rolling his shoulder. "I could just do with one of Austin's shoulder rubs about now."

"You'll be lucky if she _rubs_ your shoulders, Mike," said Don with a grin. Michelangelo gulped. His wife was ordinarily very calm and laid back but he'd seen her angry. It wasn't an experience he cared to repeat.

Leonardo ignored them, snapping his shell-cell closed. "Guys, he's not answering."

"Oh, that's not good," said Mikey softly.

"Yeah. Well, maybe we can't head in just yet," said Don.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," said Leo. "There were too many, even for Raph. We've got to go and find him."

"Hang on, I'll trace his signal," said Don, whipping out his own phone. He punched in the appropriate code, and stared at the screen. "Hmm… He's not moving. He's over on Jackson Ave. What's in that area?"

"Well, there's Giovanni's Pizza, an' the Chinese place, an' a deli… And oh, yeah, there's that big ol' building with the bells…" Michelangelo recited.

Leonardo rolled his eyes. "It's a church, Mike."

Michelangelo laughed. "Can you imagine, Raph in a _church?_ Dude, the roof'd cave in if Mr. Potty Mouth stepped inside."

Donatello shook his head. "Nice, Mikey. Real mature."

"Heh heh." Mike giggled at his own joke.

"Well, we'd better get over there," said Leonardo. "He might need help."

They hurried off, sticking to the lengthening evening shadows.

***

"There's no sign of him, Leo." Donatello frowned, staring at the tracker in his hand. The three were in the alley behind the church.

"Well maybe he went down to Giovanni's to pick up a pie," said Michelangelo. The intoxicating scent of pepperoni and tomato sauce wafted down the alley.

"Somehow I doubt Raph took off in the middle of a battle to pick up a pizza, Mike," said Leonardo. "Come on, we'll have to look for him. He's got to be here someplace."

"Leo, look." Donatello's voice was a hiss. Leonardo whipped around in time to see a Foot soldier slipping out of the church, talking into a small, hand-held communicator. The three turtles slipped into the shadows.

"_Our dead and injured have been removed. We're searching the area for the turtle. There is a woman here. Requesting permission to terminate."_

The communicator crackled.

"_Confirm kill on the mutant. Leave _no_ witnesses. Return to base."_

"_Consider it done."_

The ninja turned but never made it back into the church. The flat of Leonardo's katana connected solidly with the back of the man's head, and he dropped to the pavement with a quiet _thud_. Motioning to the others, he slipped inside the church. The other four Foot soldiers inside were quickly dealt with. Donatello spotted the girl, still lying on the stairs where she'd fallen. He quickly checked for a pulse, nodding to Leonardo when he found the faint but steady beat under his fingers.

"But where's Raph?" whispered Michelangelo nervously, his voice unnaturally quiet in the old building. "Dude, this place is kinda… creepy."

"It's just old, Mikey," said Leonardo. He glanced around. If he hadn't been so worried over Raphael, he would have liked to look around. He'd rarely felt such a sense of peace and safety anywhere above ground.

"Sierra? Sierra are you here?" A man's deep voice called out from the hall leading into the sanctuary. Leonardo motioned to his brothers, and they disappeared into the sanctuary. Looking around quickly, Leo opened a small door near the front of the church. It led into a room, with stairs which seemed to lead up and out to the space behind the pulpit. They heard footsteps entering the main room of the church. Leo pressed an eye to the barely-open door.

A tall man strode into the church, looking around worriedly.

_It's a good thing we dragged those Foot soldiers out into the alley,_ thought Leonardo. _He'll be freaked out enough when he finds the woman. We've got to get out of here, before he calls the cops. It would be really bad if they found us in here…_He almost smiled at the mental image of calling the girls for bail money.

_Too bad they wouldn't be sending us to jail,_ he mused. _We'd be locked in some high-security lab before we could explain we're the good guys. Not that it would matter to them. We're mutants; that's all they see._

"Sierra? Sierra, where are you?" he called again.

"Gene?" The voice was low, pained. "I'm here."

_Good,_ thought Leo. _She's awake._

"Sierra! What happened?" The man's voice rose with alarm.

"I'm ok, Gene. Just a little knock on the head. Oh!" There was a _thump_.

"Sierra, you can't get up yet. Just relax. I'll call the ambulance…"

"No! No, Gene, I'm fine, really."

The woman sounded panicked. Leonardo met Don's eyes.

Donatello shrugged. _I don't know what her problem is either._

"All right," the man's voice soothed. "But what happened? Did someone attack you? What's going on?"

"There's some damage to the storage room," said Sierra. Her voice was low and shaky. "I… heard something down here, I think. I came down to see… Someone hit me from behind. I… I'm ok, Gene, really. Please, don't call anyone. I'm fine."

"All right, Sierra. Let's go up to my office. You need to sit down."

"Sounds good to me," said the woman. Her voice was still shaky. The three turtles hiding in the baptistery heard footsteps moving up the stairs. The voices were muffled as the humans moved out of earshot.

"That's our cue to get out of here," whispered Leonardo. "As soon as they go upstairs, you two'll go out."

"But Leo, we haven't found Raph," Don hissed. "And what about _you_?"

"We can't search for him until those humans leave," said Leonardo. "We can't risk being seen. Mike's leg is a mess. So is your side. You're going to have to take him back to the Lair and treat that wound." _Besides, I don't have a life-mate waiting for me at home like you two and Raph do. The girls are counting on me to send you home safely._

"We're not going without you, Leo," said Donatello stubbornly.

Leonardo shook his head. "Don, you've got to," he said. "Go. I'll stay here and find Raph. Don't worry, I'll call as soon as I find _anything_."

"All right," Donatello finally conceded. "But you stay in constant contact, and you let us know the _instant_ you find Raph, ok?"

"You got it, Don," said Leo. "Now get out of here. Don't worry. Raph and I will be right behind you." He watched the two younger turtles hurry out of the sanctuary, sighing with relief a few minutes later when his shell-cell vibrated once against his hip, signaling they'd reached the safety of the sewers.

_Two down_, thought Leo. _One to go. _


	3. Chapter 3 Nor Forsake You

_Chapter 3 -Nor Forsake You-  
~~~_

Sierra Johnston laid her head back against the Pastor's armchair, waiting for the dizzy waves rolling over her to subside.

_How am I going to introduce Gene to our visitor?_ she thought. _If I try to explain to him, he'll think I'm concussed and call an ambulance. Maybe I'd better just _show_ him. Just as soon as the room stops spinning._

"Sierra, what happened? Should I be calling the police?" Gene regarded her with familiar, kind brown eyes. She'd known him so long; she hardly noticed the long thin scar that traced down his right cheek. Strangers tended to stare. Sierra was used to it.

Sierra shook her head, and wished she hadn't. "No, Gene, I'm fine now," she said softly. "Give me a moment… I'll show you why I don't want you to call the police. It's not the reason you think. Please, just wait."

"All right, Sierra," said the pastor, frowning.

Sierra sighed. She pushed herself forward in the chair, waiting for her head to stop spinning before slowly getting to her feet. Gene rushed to her side, taking her arm in a gentle grip. The woman flinched, but didn't pull away. She drew a deep, steadying breath.

"Are you all right?" Gene's voice was soft, deliberately gentle.

"I will be," she whispered. Another deep breath, and she met his eyes. "We need to go to the counseling office."

"Do you feel more comfortable there?" Gene looked extremely confused.

Sierra laughed. "Well, I've spent enough time in there but no, there's something… someone you need to see."

"Something-someone?" Gene's eyebrows rose.

"You'll see," said the woman. She started toward the door, swaying slightly, and reached to catch Gene's arm. He let her grasp his forearm, but didn't grab her. He let her hold on to him, his eyes widening with surprise and concern.

"Sierra…"

"Gene, please. Just come."

"All right. You know, maybe we should have a talk about humility…" he teased.

Sierra giggled. "You know it's not my strong point," she said. Gene grinned. He supported her carefully down the short hall to the counseling office. Sierra paused, turning to block the door with her body. She turned a stern look on the Pastor.

"You've got to promise not to freak out, Gene."

"What? Sierra, you've known me for three years. Have you ever seen me freak out?"

"No. Which is why I called _you_. But I've… never seen anything like this, either."

"Ok," he said, looking a little as though he was beginning to doubt her sanity. Sierra pushed the door open, and stepped inside. To her great relief, her patient hadn't moved. His plastron rose and fell steadily.

She heard Gene gasp and turned to face the man with a worried expression.

"Now, Gene, remember, you promised…"

"It's… it's ok Sierra… I'm ok. Where did he come from?" the man whispered.

"I'm not sure, exactly," said the woman, going to kneel at Raphael's side. She touched his arm, feeling for a pulse. She found it beating away strongly. "His pulse seems rapid to me, but I don't know what's normal for him. It's certainly a bit faster than it was before."

"That could indicate shock," said Gene. He came over and knelt beside Sierra. Hesitantly, he reached out and brushed his fingers over the dark-green skin of Raphael's bicep. "My word. Look at those muscles," he breathed.

"Isn't he amazing?" Sierra took the creature's hand in her own. She didn't notice the surprised look her pastor gave her. She was gazing at Raphael. "His leg is broken," she said. "I set it as best I could, and splinted it. He's got a head-wound, I bandaged that, and some cuts on his left arm, see? I washed and bound them up as best I could. I don't know if he has any internal injuries… And he hasn't woken up yet."

"You washed him? How did he get so dirty?" Gene's medical training took over, and he began examining Raphael's wounds. He peeled one of Raph's eyelids open, noting that his pupil reacted to the light. "He doesn't _seem_ to have brain damage." His eyebrows shot up as he unwound the bandage on his head. "Is this… a choir robe?"

"Yes. I'm sorry, it was the only material I could find. I'll pay to replace it," said Sierra.

"You most certainly will not," said Gene with a smile. "It was very resourceful, good thinking. You always were a survivor."

"Well, I hope I've at least been of some use to him," Sierra lightly. Gene put a hand on her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. She glanced at him with a sad smile.

"You're safe now, Sierra. You're making better choices. I'm _proud_ of you, you know that, don't you?"

"Thank you, Gene." Sierra's eyes remained on the creature before them for a long moment before she looked up to meet his gaze. "It… means a lot to me to hear you say that." Tears glittered on her lashes.

"This guy's going to need more then a few bandages," said Gene, turning back to the turtle laid out before them. "I brought my medical kit, but we're going to have to disinfect these wounds first. He really should be _bathed_ in disinfectant. How did this happen?"

"Oh! The storage room. I'll show you," said Sierra.

"What happened to the storage room?" asked Gene, looking confused.

"I think… he crashed through the roof," said the woman.

Gene's eyes widened. "How on earth? Well, no matter. I keep some more supplies in my office, disinfectant and another medical kit. By the looks of him, I'm going to need it. I'll get that, and stick my head in the storage room on the way, ok?"

"Ok," she said. She stood up, brushing her hands off on her jeans. The pair left Raph resting on the couch.

"Oh my," said Gene, looking at the devastation that was once a room in the old church. "So you believe he came through there?"

"Yes. Oh, what's that?" Sierra leaned down, picking up a shell-shaped object from the floor. It had a large crack across the back.

"It looks almost like… a turtle shell," said Gene, frowning. "But I think it's broken. I wonder what it is?"

"I don't know, but it must belong to him," said Sierra. She slipped it into her pocket. "We can give it to him when he wakes." She walked over to a large chunk of roof, frowning. Leaning down again, she picked up a torn leather belt, shaking off the dust. Two metal objects seemed attached to it.

"What is this?"

"Those look like… some sort of knives," said Gene, examining the belt. "I've seen something like this before. It must belong to the creature," he said quietly. He sighed. "Well, this roof can wait, he can't. We'd better get those wounds dealt with."

The woman nodded. She handed the belt to Gene. "I'll go and run some water."

"Good. I'll put this in my office for now. There should be some honest-to-goodness cloth towels in the closet," responded the pastor, slinging the belt over his shoulder.

"Oh! I never thought to look there," said Sierra, blushing. "I tore up that choir robe for nothing!"

Gene chuckled. "It was a justified sacrifice," he said. "I'm sure the Lord understands."

"I hope so," she said with a grin. "I'll get those towels."

"Soak them in the hottest water you can get from the sinks," instructed Gene. "We'll need to clean him up as best we can. I'll check his leg."

Sierra nodded and headed off to the closet to fetch the towels.

Gene closed the door to the storage room and headed for his office. Gene gathered the supplies he needed and returned to the counseling office. He knelt beside the strange creature and started laying out his supplies, waiting for Sierra to return with the towels. His thread and needles prepared, he took a moment to look over the creature once more.

_Amazing,_ thought Gene. _Lord, is this Your sense of irony coming to the surface, allowing me a chance to help this… person? _His hand strayed to the scar on his cheek. _I pray we're doing the right thing in helping him. Yet, how can we do otherwise? _

Sierra came into the room, carrying an armload of wet towels. She knelt beside the couch, and the pair set to work, more thoroughly cleaning the dirt and debris from Raph's face and head. Sierra washed his neck, gently wiping dust away from the sensitive skin at the edge of his plastron. She brushed her fingers lightly over the smoother skin of his throat and touched the edge of his shell, wiping away the dust to reveal the golden caramel color of his plastron.

"He's so beautiful," she whispered, half to herself. She glanced up to find Gene regarding her with amusement, and blushed.

"He _is_ beautiful," said Gene gently with a smile. "Can you hold his head steady while I stitch this wound? I don't want him to lose any more blood."

"No problem." Sierra positioned herself near the turtle's head, and took his jaw gently in her hands, sliding her fingers under his neck to hold his head still while Gene stitched the gash, pushing the edges closed and sewing them in place. Sierra watched, unflinching, as the pastor finished the delicate work and tied off the thread.

"I'm glad he's unconscious," muttered Gene. "I would've hated to try that while he was awake."

"Gene, when he wakes, he's going to be in a lot of pain," said Sierra. "Do… do you think he'll try to attack us?"

"I don't know. We'll just have to be careful. We really don't know anything about him," he said half to himself.

"Well, he was wearing this mask." Sierra picked up the silken bandana from the floor. "And we found that belt in the storage room. It has to be his, right?"

"And weapons. He's a fighter, Sierra," said Gene softly.

Sierra nodded, gazing at the creature. "I was a fighter, too when I first came here," she said.

Gene laughed. "I remember," he said. "And look at you now."

"Yes, well… What are we going to do with him?"

"I don't know." Gene gazed at their green-skinned visitor. "He's not in any shape to be moved just yet. He should be safe enough here until Sunday. We can keep the door locked. Once he's awake it'll be easier to make a decision."

"You will not need to make such a decision."

The cold voice made them both whip around. A person stood in the doorway, a man by the voice. A black mask obscured his features; indeed, his entire clothing was black.

Sierra was sure she heard Gene whisper something about a "foot", but could see nothing odd about the man's feet except the strange cloth slippers he wore. The man drew a short sword from a sheath at his side, and started toward them.

Gene was on his feet in an instant, pushing Sierra behind him. The man took no more than two steps, when there was a _thunk._ He crumpled to the floor.

Standing behind him, with _two_ swords glittering in the light, was another turtle. Sierra gasped, staring. This one wore a blue mask. He was quite awake and his expression looked angry and desperate.

"Raph!" he cried, leaping forward. "Get away from my brother!"


	4. Chapter 4 Healing

**A/N: Cliffies for all! *sprinkles them liberally over the fic*  
heh**

**EDITED: I loused up. Sorry, guys. Raph and Ann are not yet married. That was a typo left over from an earlier version. **

**

* * *

**_Chapter 4 -Healing-  
~~~_

"Hold _still_, Mike," scolded Austin. Michelangelo clung to her hand, fighting back a whimper as Donatello slipped the needle through the edge of his skin. He turned his face into his wife's chest. Her free arm wrapped around his shoulders, drawing him closer, using her strong, lithe body to shield him. Austin could be soft and yielding in many aspects of their relationship, but when Michelangelo was hurt, she mothered him with a gentle strength that even Leonardo admired.

Don tied off the knot. "Done. Austin, can you bandage that for him?"

"No problem," said the hazel-eyed woman. She gathered the necessary gauze and bandages and began tending the wound as expertly as Don would himself. Having been married to Michelangelo now for almost three years, she had gained a lot of experience.

"Now," said Beverly, catching Donatello by the arm. "Let me see what you've done to your side."

Donatello grimaced, but let her lead him to the examination table. "It's just a cut," he said, trying to placate her.

Bev glared. "Listen to you. Your arm could be hanging half off and you'd give me that "it's just a cut" nonsense."

"Beverly, really, I'm fine…" Donatello tried to reassure his wife.

She leaned close, pushing his arm aside for a better look. Donatello's breath hitched in his chest as he felt her warm breath tickle his skin and her strawberry-blonde hair brushed his elbow. She drew a sharp breath and glared up at him. "You call _that_ "just" a cut? Hamato Donatello!"

He winced at the use of his full name. "All right, all right," he said, touching her shoulder. "You can stitch it."

She shot him another glare and began assembling the necessary supplies. Don's eye ridges rose at the size of the dose of Novocain she drew. She refused to meet his gaze.

"I know how sensitive that is," she said finally. She looked into his eyes, daring him to contradict her, to insist on sparing their limited medical supplies. Don knew better than to argue with her. Besides, the skin between their plastron and shell _was _sensitive. Fifteen minutes later his side was sewn so expertly, he was certain he wouldn't have so much as a scar.

"Thanks, Bev," he whispered leaning forward to nuzzle her cheek. She allowed the contact, wrapping her arms around him. Don sighed, content. He heard the outer door to the Lair open and close and his face paled.

"Oh, man," Austin whispered. "Ann's home."

"What're we gonna tell her?" asked Michelangelo, glancing toward the med-lab door as if he half-expected an army of zombies to march in, forks at the ready for munching his brain.

"The truth," said Beverly. She was the only one who wasn't remotely afraid of Ann's temper. "That Raph's missing and Leo's gone to find him. She already knows he's an idiot; she's with the guy."

"You tell her," said Austin.

"Not on your life." Beverly grinned. "Mike can tell her. She won't murder _him_."

Michelangelo turned to look at Bev. "No way! Not _this_ little green turtle!" He held up his hands. "Not a chance."

"Oh, come on, Mikey," wheedled Beverly. "You know she can't resist those big blue eyes of yours. Just go out there and tell her."

"Tell me _what?_" There was a collective gasp as four sets of eyes swiveled to stare at the slender woman standing in the door, her brown eyed gaze moving from one to the other. "What's going on? Good grief, what happened to you two? And… where's Raphael?" Her voice was suddenly very quiet. Her gaze landed on Michelangelo.

"Eeep!" Mikey squeaked, scrambling off the table. He stumbled as his feet landed on the floor, and Austin had to catch his arm to keep him from falling over. "Umm… Hiya, Ann. How… how was your day?" he stammered.

Ann's eyes narrowed. "Michelangelo…"

Mikey was strongly reminded of Raph. He swallowed hard, glancing at his wife. She smiled. Mike found his courage. "Well, see, we were kind of in a little… umm, fight with the Foot tonight."

"The _Foot_?" Ann paled. "Where's Raph?" she asked again, a note of desperation slipping into her voice.

"Well, we umm… we-lost-Raphy-but-Leo's-out-lookin'-for-him," Mikey said in a rush.

Ann gasped. "What do you mean you _lost_ Raph? What on earth did he do _now_? Oh, when he gets home, he's in so much trouble…"

Michelangelo sighed a breath of relief. It seemed her anger would be directed at the missing Raphael, not at his brothers.

"So where did you lose him?" Ann pulled out her own shell-cell, and began punching buttons. "Have you been able to contact him, Don? Has anyone spoken to Leo? It looks like he's over near Giovanni's." She strode purposefully toward the elevator.

"Hey, Ann, wait!" Donatello slid off the table to hurry after her. "Wait a minute! You can't just go running after him! The Foot are out there." He caught her arm, spinning her around just as she reached the elevator.

Ann turned, and gave Don a look that would've frozen boiling water solid in an instant. "He might be hurt. I'm going."

Donatello gulped, letting go of her arm. "Mike and I will go," he said. "Please, Ann. Raph'd _kill_ us if anything happened to you."

"That's nothing to what _I'll _do if anything happens to _him_," growled the petite woman.

Don nodded. "I know," he said.

Ann sighed. "Ok," she said. "Why don't you call Leo?"

"I will. On the way. Mike and I were just leaving, right Mikey?" Michelangelo had sidled up to his brother. Don wasn't sure if he meant to help defend him from Ann, or if Mikey was just trying to slip past them to get out through the elevator.

Mike grinned a bit sheepishly. "You got it, Donny," he said.

_Trying to get out. The little weasel,_ thought Don. He gave Michelangelo a shove toward the elevator.

His younger brother moved forward, but turned back. "Austin!" His wife hurried over, wrapping him up in a brief but tight embrace.

Beverly, leaning on the door to the med-lab, rolled her eyes, but straightened and sauntered over. She planted a theatrical kiss on Donatello's cheek. He flashed her a smile.

"Guys, be careful," said Ann, putting one hand on each of their shoulders. "Bring him home."

"We will, Ann, don't worry," said Mike with a grin. She gave their arms a little squeeze before letting them go. The other girls surged forward, coming up beside her.

"Come on, Ann, I'll make you some tea," said Austin, leading her away.

"Go," said Beverly over her shoulder. Don met her eyes, and the unspoken messages passed between them.

_Be safe. _

_I will._

The brothers disappeared into the elevator, heading back to the surface to find Leonardo and Raphael.

***

Donatello dialed Raphael's number first, sighing when the phone once again went to voice-mail. He tried Leo's number next. Again, he got voice-mail.

Donatello swore under his breath. _We shouldn't have left him there alone. It should've been simple. Find Raph, bring him home. Unless Raph was hurt. Or unless Leo ran into trouble..._

He punched in the code to track Leonardo's cell and swore out loud as the blip showed up on the screen. Michelangelo glanced at him in surprise.

"He's still at the church," explained Don.

"Why would he still be there? Maybe Raph's there? But why didn't he call us?"

"I don't know, Mike. I hope he's not trapped… Or hurt." Donatello pulled out his bo. "Come on, let's get over there. Leo could be in trouble." The two raced across the rooftops, closing the gap between themselves and their brothers.

"We'll have to go down from here," panted Donatello as they reached a roof across the alley from the church.

"Holy _shell_, Don, look." Michelangelo pointed, pale. Don gasped, staring at the gaping hole where a small dormer roof had once been. "What do you suppose did _that_?" asked Mikey.

"I don't know, Mike," said Don but truthfully he had his suspicions. "Let's get down there. Leo's around here somewhere."

"Oh, man, we've gotta go in that creepy old building again, don't we?" asked Mike.

"It's just a church, Mike. Where people go to feel closer to God."

"It smells funny," complained Michelangelo. "Sort of… dusty."

"Well, it's an old building," said Don.

"Let's get this over with," said Mikey. "I wanna get home tonight. Austin said she was gonna make French toast in the morning."

"She keeps cooking stuff like that, none of us will fit in our shells," said Donatello with a smile.

"You got it, bro," said Michelangelo. "Ya know, I married her for her cooking."

"I'm going to tell her you said that," teased Don.

Mikey shook his head. "You do, and I'll tell Bev you went on a midnight run to the junkyard last week without anybody to watch your back," he warned.

Donatello shot his brother a glare. "You wouldn't."

Mikey smirked. "Try me."

Don shook his head, defeated. "All right, you win. Come on." He landed lightly in the alley. The slightest _thump_ behind him told him Michelangelo was on the ground. Don held up his hand, seeing movement near the door. "_Foot_," he hissed.

Michelangelo touched his brother's arm to indicate he'd heard. They moved like wraiths through the shadows toward the black-clad figures. One of the Foot soldiers turned, but he never had time to cry out. Don's bo flashed out, catching him solidly on the side of the head. The man dropped like a stone. His partner whirled, taking a defensive stance. Mike's nunchuck whistled and the second soldier joined the first on the ground.

"What are they still doing hanging around here?" whispered Don, mindful that more enemies might be lurking nearby.

"I dunno. Why're Leo and Raph still here?" asked Michelangelo. They heard thumping and a cry from within the church. Mikey's blue eyes went wide.

"_Leo!_"

The pair rushed inside. Their brother was in trouble.


	5. Chapter 5 Familiar Faces

**A/N: I must apologize for a typo in chapter 4. Raphael and Ann are NOT married yet. That "she married the guy" comment was left over from an earlier version. Sorry!! I have edited and fixed the goof. **

* * *

_Chapter 5 –Familiar Faces-  
~~~_

"Leonardo!" The man's cry stopped Leo in mid stride. He froze, taking a defensive crouch, staring.

"How… how do you know my name?" he hissed, keeping his katana pointed toward the man.

"I… I thought it might be you," whispered the man. He moved back, away from the couch where Raphael lay, keeping his body between Leo and the girl, shielding her. "We… met once. It was years ago…" His hand strayed to the narrow scar snaking down his cheek. Leonardo's eyes narrowed behind his mask.

"He's… your brother, isn't he?" The man gestured toward the unconscious turtle. Leo stood, lowering his swords only a few inches, watching him suspiciously. "You… you and your brothers… I met you once, years ago. I was young and stupid. I was with a local gang… the Purple Dragons."

Leo growled low in his throat. "You _were_ a Purple Dragon?"

"Yes." Slowly, careful to let Leo see every move, Gene rolled up his sleeve, baring his upper arm. The telltale dragon tattoo was faded but there, snaking up his arm. Leonardo glared at the familiar symbol, his hands tightening on the hilts of his katana.

"One night some of us were out stealing TVs from a warehouse. We encountered you… and your brothers," Gene continued. "You… gave me this." He touched the scar, but a smile played over his lips. "You changed my life."

Leonardo stared at the man, unsure whether to apologize or say 'you're welcome'. He shook his head. His only priority now was Raphael, getting him out of here, and keeping these two from calling the cops or other authorities before he could get Raph safely away.

"Gene stitched his head," said the woman. Leonardo looked at her and felt his breath catch in his throat. Her face was a bit pale, but her gaze was steady and determined. There was something, a peace and calm in her green eyes that stole the air from his lungs. _Whoa_, he thought. She moved to stand next to the man. He half-turned as if he would stop her. She took another step forward, touching Gene's arm reassuringly. Leonardo felt a strange squeeze in his chest. _So she's with him. So what? _he thought, cursing his own raging emotions.

"I was the one who set his leg," she said softly. "So if it's not done right, it's my fault, not Gene's. He did all he could for him. We… we didn't call anyone. We won't. We don't mean you any harm." She met his gaze steadily.

Leonardo felt a thrill run through him. He shook himself, turning his attention to his brother. He took in the neat stitching of the gash on Raph's head, and the carefully wrapped splint around his leg.

_She's telling the truth. They have been trying to help him. But I'm here now and it's my job to get him home safely. How'm I going to carry him? His leg's obviously broken. Oh, Raph, why aren't you waking up?_

"His pupils were reactive," said Gene. Leo's gaze snapped back to the man, his swords coming up instinctively. The pastor held up his hands as if in surrender. "I don't think he has any brain damage," he explained. "Apparently he came through the roof in the old storage room," he said. "Sierra here heard the crash. She brought him in here and administered some basic first aid. When I got here, she was knocked out. I think one of the Foot must've attacked her."

"You know about the Foot?" Leonardo was on full alert once more, glaring at the man.

"I was a PD, remember?" Gene gave him a disarming smile. "I'd know that uniform anywhere."

"What on earth is a Foot?" asked Sierra, turning to stare at Gene. "I knew you were once a gang member, but who're these guys? And what is he going to _do?_"

"The Foot were… are… a gang of… ninjas, I suppose," said Gene softly. "They were rivals to the gang I was in. As for Leonardo… I don't know. We've done your brother no harm, only tried to help him. We mean _you_ no harm," he said, looking at the blue-banded turtle. "Don't worry, Sierra. I don't think he'll hurt us. He's just worried about his brother."

"You're right," said Leonardo. "I'm sorry if I frightened you, Miss." he lowered his sword tips, keeping an eye on the man. Slowly he lifted the swords. Sierra shrank back, her eyes going wide, but Leo sheathed the katanas. He gave the man a short bow. "Thank you," he said formally. "For helping my brother."

"You are welcome," replied Gene. "It was an honor."

Sierra watched the exchange, stunned. She'd seen her share of fights and had known fighters but not one of them, ever, had ever shown this level of calm self-control. Never had she seen such dark, troubled eyes. She wanted to go to Leonardo, to touch him, to tell him everything would be all right, but she didn't dare move any closer. There was something wary in the way he held himself that told her he was still feeling defensive and suspicious. She watched as he moved to his brother's side.

"Raph…" his whisper was full of pain and worry. Sierra watched as his hand, which only a moment ago had brandished a sword, reached out to cup the cheek of the darker-skinned turtle. He glanced at the humans, his gaze wary.

"How long has he been out?"

"Since I found him," answered Sierra. "A little over an hour."

The blue-banded turtle turned worried eyes toward the other. "I need Don," he muttered. "This medical stuff is beyond me."

"He's likely got a concussion," said Gene. "I didn't feel any depression in his skull when I stitched that wound. I don't think he's fractured it. And his pupil responses seemed to indicate no brain damage. He should wake up on his own soon."

"He's got a hard head," muttered Leonardo.

"What… what's his name?" asked Sierra.

Leo looked at her, surprised. "Raphael," he answered finally.

"Look out!" Gene shouted suddenly, whirling and grabbing Sierra about the waist, pulling her to the floor. A bo-shuriken _thudded_ into the wall behind where they'd been standing. Leonardo was on his feet, his katana drawn in an instant. A Foot soldier was already ducking away from the door. With a growl, Leonardo was after him.

He rushed out into the hall, only to be faced with a dozen of the black-clad demons. His arm was aching fiercely, but he held both katana steady with an effort. The ninjas held their stances warily. Suddenly one of them rushed at Leo, targeting his injured left arm. He turned, throwing out a spin-kick that sent the man sprawling back into his companions. It was as if a switch had been thrown. All of the still-standing Foot surged forward, coming at Leonardo in a wave. He might have been overwhelmed if a second pair of fists hadn't joined the fight.

He turned with surprise, seeing Gene throw an expert Dragon-punch, knocking a black-clad enemy to the floor. Gene took a fighting stance, glancing at Leonardo with a grim smile. "I owe you one," said the man, throwing another jab. Leo stopped a dagger's forward progress just before it would've sunk into Gene's throat.

"You owe me nothing," said Leonardo.

Another punch and a cry forced itself from Leo's throat as a kick caught him squarely in the left side of his plastron. _Shell, that hurt. _The remaining soldiers, sensing weakness, surged forward, intending to overwhelm the pair by sheer numbers.

_Thwack!_ Leonardo grinned as he heard the familiar crack of his brother's bo. Michelangelo's nunchucks whistled.

"Dude. Ten against one is not fair odds."

"Well, let's even them up a bit, Mike," answered Don.

Leonardo jumped back into the battle with renewed vigor. His brothers were here. Everything would be all right.

Between the three of them, they made short work of the Foot soldiers. Gene stepped back, watching the turtles move as a graceful team. "Amazing," he whispered as Michelangelo took down the last enemy with a spin-kick.

"Show-off," muttered Donatello.

"Am I glad to see you guys," said Leo. "Don, Raph's hurt pretty badly. Come on."

"Where is he?" Don frowned.

"In here," said Gene. The newcomers stared at him, suspicion and worry showing in their gazes.

"It's ok, guys. This is Gene. He and Sierra were helping Raph," said Leonardo.

"Thanks," said Donatello. He followed the man into the room where a dark-haired woman was kneeling next to Raphael. When the door swung open, she turned, half-crouching as if she would shield him.

Leonardo felt something constrict in his chest at the gesture. _She wants to protect him. Every time I think I've got people figured out, they surprise me again._

"Sierra, these are Raphael's other brothers," said Gene. The woman nodded, stepping back as Donatello rushed to his brother's side. He pried Raph's eyelid open, shining a penlight into his eyes.

"His pupils were reactive when I checked about forty-five minutes ago," said Gene softly. "I didn't find any depression in the head wound, either. With luck, he didn't sustain any serious brain damage."

"He should be waking up by now," said Donatello fretfully. He put a finger against his brother's neck and frowned. "His pulse is a little fast but not terrible," he said. "He's not cold, so hopefully he's not going into shock." He glanced down at the splint. "What's this?"

"I… straightened his leg, and splinted it, before I moved him," said Sierra shyly. "I… hope I did the right thing. I couldn't leave him in the storage room, with the dust and the risk of exposure…"

"You did fine," said Gene, putting a protective arm around her shoulders. "Sierra has had advanced first-aid training," he told Donatello. "She did her best."

"I'm sure she did," replied Don. He felt the edges of the splint carefully. "I'm going to leave this in place for now. It'll hold Raph's leg stable until we can get him home. Leo, Mike, we're going to need a stretcher."

"Do you think it wise to move him?" asked Gene, frowning. "You're welcome to keep him here as long as you need to."

Donatello was shaking his head. "No. Not with the Foot hanging around. We can't keep defending this place. It'll be best for everyone if we go as soon as possible."

Leonardo cleared his throat. "Don's right. In fact, you two may be in danger as well. You should consider leaving the city tonight."

The girl's green eyes flickered to his face, and his breath hitched uncomfortably in his chest. Her ebony hair glinted in the light. For a fleeting moment, Leonardo wondered what it would be like to run his fingers through it, to feel it brush against his skin… He shook himself. _What has gotten into me_?

"I don't have anyplace to go," she said softly, looking away. "I'm not leaving."

"Sierra," Gene said softly. "Why don't you stay with Marjory and me tonight? We can discuss what to do in the morning."

"No, Gene. I'm going home," said Sierra firmly. Gene started to say something else, but the look she gave him silenced his protest.

"All right, we've got to get Raph out of here," said Leonardo, turning to his brothers. The humans' argument was none of his concern. Still, he couldn't help the thrill at the Pastor's words _Marjory. That must be his wife. So he and Sierra aren't... Not that it matters to me._

Leonardo shook his head, forcing himself to focus. "Mikey, call Casey and ask him to come over here. We need all the muscle we can get. Don, see what you can find to build a stretcher out of. Pastor, Miss Sierra, I'm sorry for all the trouble," he said, turning. The girl's green eyes caught his, and he had to take a breath and re-collect his thoughts.

"It's been an honor to meet you again," said Gene. He held out his hand to Leonardo. Leo froze for an instant before he recognized the gesture. Slowly, he took the man's hand. Gene gave him a firm, warm handshake. "Whatever you need, Leonardo, we'll be glad to help. I'm sure we can find something to make a stretcher out of."

For a moment, Leo was speechless. Don nudged him, and he found his voice. "Thank you, Gene," he said, meeting the man's eyes. "My family is in your debt."

"Nonsense," said Gene with a smile. "I owe you my life. If we had more time, I'd tell you the story. Now, let's go and find something strong enough to hold your brother." He clapped Leonardo on the shell in a friendly gesture. Leo contained his flinch with an effort.

Donatello watched the exchange, his eyes widening. _Amazing,_ he thought. _He doesn't seem uncomfortable with us at all. _He turned to see the girl, Sierra, watching him.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked.

"Sure, Dudette," said Michelangelo. "You can help me sit on Raphy-boy here, so he don't get up and hurt himself."

Donatello turned, and stared in shock at his older brother. His amber eyes were open and wide with fear and pain. He was struggling to sit up as Michelangelo leaned over the back of the couch, pinning his shoulders.

"What's goin' on?" Raph rasped. "Lemme go, Mikey! What da _shell_, Donny?"

"Oh, Raph!" Don knelt beside his brother, tears stinging his eyes. "Am I _ever_ glad to see you!"

_Don't worry, Ann. We're bringing him home to you._


	6. Chapter 6 Unto Us a Child is Given

**A/N: In some chapters, you'll notice a few quotes thrown in.  
They sort of jumped out at me while I was writing. I thought you'd enjoy them. :)  
Not all chaps will have a quote. In the case of this chapter, the title is the quote. *Isaiah 9:6 NIV**

**_Musume_ means "my daughter"  
**

**

* * *

**

_Chapter 6 -Unto Us a Child is Given*-  
~~~_

Ann sat at the table, checking her watch for the forth time in ten minutes. "They should _be _here by now," she grumbled.

"Ann, they had to carry him down some stairs, then avoid being spotted while they get him back to the warehouse. They'll be here." Austin touched the woman's arm. "They always come home, you know that."

"Yeah," Ann sighed. "Did Leo say how badly he's hurt this time?"

"Well, he mentioned a broken leg, and some stitches…"

"Don had to stitch him on site? Oh… that's not good."

Beverly came out of the med-lab, snapping her shell-cell closed. "Leo just called again. They're on their way. Ann, don't worry. I could hear Raph in the background. He's awake and swearing."

"Oh, thank goodness," breathed Ann. She burst into tears, burying her face in her arms. Bailey, her huge white German Shepherd, whined, pressing his body against her knees.

Austin stood, putting her hands on Ann's shaking shoulders. "Ann, you know how tough Raph is. He's going to be ok, I promise."

"Thanks, Austin." Ann drew a deep breath. "Bev, do you need help?"

"Nope, I've got everything out Don asked for. I've set up the portable x-ray and pulled out a couple gallons of that iodine stuff."

"We're going to need supplies soon," commented Austin. "One of us will have to pick things up on our next grocery run."

"I'll make a list. What's in the budget?" Bev asked, plopping at the table.

"We should be ok," said Ann softly. "I got paid this week, that will help."

"Good," said Austin. "And Mike just got a royalty check for that picture book. My paycheck doesn't come until next week, but we should have plenty."

"Novocain's expensive," grumbled Bev, frowning. "But they need it."

"If they'd just quit getting into fights…" Ann sighed.

Austin laughed. Bev just shook her head.

"You might as well as them to quit being ninjas," Austin said gently, patting Ann's shoulder.

Ann glanced at her. "I know. It's different for _you._ You understand them. You're the only one of us who can actually keep up with them."

"I should've gone with them tonight," said Austin softly.

"Now, don't start that again," reprimanded Bev. "You know they weren't planning for trouble. They were just on patrol. Besides, you need your rest. You shouldn't be fighting in your condition."

Austin smiled. Her hand strayed to her stomach. "Hush, Splinter will hear you," she whispered. "I haven't even told Mike yet."

"Why not?" asked Ann, looking up. "When are you going to tell him? I hate keeping things from Raph."

"Well, if you gals weren't so _nosy_," Austin said with a grin.

"It's hard _not_ to notice when you start puking your guts out almost every morning before breakfast," grumbled Bev.

"And when you suddenly start sending Mike out for ice-cream and lox at midnight." Ann smiled. "Lucky for you, men aren't perceptive."

Austin blushed. "Mike is," she said softly. "He knows I was getting sick. I told him it was the flu."

"Why haven't you told him yet?" asked Bev. "You know he'll be thrilled. He's such a big kid himself."

"I want to be _sure_, said Austin softly. "I mean, this is the first time one of the guys has… well, you know, with the mutation and all… What if the baby isn't… viable? What if we lose it? Mike would be devastated. I… I can't disappoint him like that."

"Austin, you know nothing you do will ever disappoint Michelangelo," scolded Ann, taking her friend's hand in her own. "He _loves_ you, more than anything in the world. With or without kids, you make him happy. Even Raph says so."

"Raphael notices when Mike's happy?" Beverly's eyebrows rose.

"Raph notices a lot of things," said Ann softly. "He just… doesn't talk about it much."

"I know. He's too busy yelling and throwing things at Leo," said Bev with a smile.

"He hasn't thrown his sai at Leo in weeks," protested Ann.

"Well, he'll be throwing things again if he has to stay in bed with a broken leg," said Beverly. "We'd better add leather to the list. His punching bag's going to need patches."

Ann laughed in spite of herself. "I'll keep him happy," she said softly.

"If anyone can, it's you," teased Austin. "Who knows, maybe you guys will be getting on the baby train next."

Ann smiled. "You never know," she said, reaching down to scratch Bailey's ears. "I've never thought about having kids, actually. We're not even married yet. Raph hasn't mentioned it. I wonder how he'd feel?"

"Well, when he gets here, you can ask him," said Beverly with a grin. Ann rolled her eyes.

"You're incorrigible," she said.

_Scritch, tap. Scritch, tap. Scritch, tap._ The girls exchanged glances and grins. Ann stood as Splinter came into the kitchen. Bailey whined, moving over to press his head under Splinter's paw. Austin moved to pull out a chair for the elderly rat. A smile crossed his features. "My daughters," he said softly, patting the dog, "Have the boys returned?"

"Not yet, Sir," said Ann shyly. "They're on their way back. Raphael is injured, but he's awake. They're bringing him home."

"They always do," said Splinter calmly.

"Would you like a cup of tea, Sensei?" asked Austin.

"That would be most appreciated," said Splinter. He regarded her with a twinkle in his dark eyes. Austin avoided his gaze, moving to the stove.

"My daughters, is there something you wish to share? These old ears are open."

The women froze. Three sets of eyes stared at Splinter. He chuckled.

"I am, perhaps, a bit more… _perceptive_ than my sons," he said softly. "Austin."

The girl turned from the stove and came to him, kneeling respectfully. Splinter reached out and touched her jaw, lifting her chin so that she had to meet his gaze. Aside from the slight tremble of her shoulders, Austin met his eyes steadily.

"Yes, Sir?" she whispered.

"Splinter, don't be mad at Austin," blurted Beverly. "We all knew."

"I am not angry, _musume_," said Splinter gently. His gaze never left Austin's face. "I wish only offer my congratulations, and gratitude. I believe I am going to be a grandfather." His eyes twinkled.

"I… I hope so, Sir," said Austin. Tears trickled down her cheeks. "I'm… I'm afraid, Splinter. What if something goes wrong? What if… what if I lose the baby?"

"Austin-chan." Splinter leaned forward, gathering the young woman up in his arms. "Do not fear. If this child is meant to be, it will be. Michelangelo's feelings for you will not change."

"I… don't want to disappoint him," said Austin, her voice muffled in Splinter's robe.

"You could never disappoint him, Daughter," said Splinter gently. He released her and leaned back to gaze into her hazel eyes. "Neither will you disappoint _me._"

Austin gave him a shaky smile. Tears were sliding down Ann's cheeks. Beverly watched the entire exchange with a half-smile. All of them started when they heard the elevator doors grinding open.

"They're here!"

Ann was on her feet and at the doors before they'd slid all the way into the wall. Don came out of the elevator, pushing Raph in a wheelchair. Ann fell upon Raphael, hardly noticing his brothers and Casey Jones coming in behind him. He grunted, but wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

"Hey, Babe," he whispered into her hair. She trembled against him.

"You idiot," she grumbled. "Don't you _ever_ do anything like that again, do you hear me?"

Casey smothered his laugh. Even he wasn't about to risk Ann's temper.

"I'll try not to." Raph's smirk sounded clearly in his voice. Ann stood up, wiping her eyes and stepped back to let Beverly get closer.

The girl glanced at Donatello, who was standing behind the wheelchair. "How is he? And where did you get a _wheelchair_?"

Don smiled tiredly. "He's pretty banged up. We've got to disinfect these wounds properly and get that leg x-rayed. The wheelchair came from the church. Gene loaned it to us to get him home."

"Good t'ing he did, too," remarked Casey, leaning against the now-closed elevator door. "Raph here's no light-weight ya know."

"Gene?" Bev's eyebrows rose. She knew how rarely the boys let themselves be seen by humans other than their friends and wives.

"The pastor at the church," provided Leo. He smiled as Michelangelo crossed the room to wrap Austin up in an enveloping hug as if he'd been gone for months, instead of just a few hours. "He and Sierra helped Raph. Gene's got a nice right cross."

"Ok, spill," said Austin, looking into Michelangelo's eyes. "We want to hear the _whole_ story, from beginning to end."

"You can tell them, Mike," said Donatello. "Bev and I have to get Raph into the med-lab."

"I'm going with Raphael," said Ann firmly. She was holding his hand as if she'd never let go. Raph chuckled, and gave her a squeeze.

"It's ok, Honey," he said softly. "I ain't goin' nowhere."

"Too right, you're not," snapped Ann. "Not without _me._"

Casey snorted, and Ann shot him a glare.

Beverly shook her head. "Come on, Don, let's get the turtle jig-saw here patched up."

Don wheeled Raphael into the medi-lab. Leonardo followed, meaning to help lift his brother from the wheelchair. Casey grabbed his arm, and he gasped, twisting away from the man with a grimace.

"Not wit' dat arm, Leo. I saw how ya were holdin' it. Ya hurt it, didn't ya? _I'll_ help 'em get Raph up. You get da doctor twins here ta look ya over."

"All right," grumbled Leonardo, seeing Beverly glance back at him, her brow furrowed with annoyance and worry. "Nice going, Casey," he muttered to the man.

Casey laughed. "Well ya didn't t'ink ya were gonna get past her, did ya?"

"I has hoped to corner Don after everyone else went to bed," whispered Leo.

"Oh relax, _Leonardo_, Bev shook her head. "Geesh, you act like I'm going to molest you or something."

Leonardo blushed, his green skin turning an odd mottled shade. Casey guffawed. Raphael's chuckle was stifled by a gasp as he tried to stand.

Donatello was shaking his head. "Raph, you're going to have to let us help you. You can't put weight on that leg."

Raphael sank back in the chair with a frustrated sigh. "All right. Hey, Head-Case. Li'l help here?"

"Well since ya ask so nice," said Casey sarcastically. He and Don each took one of Raphael's arms. "On t'ree?"

Donatello nodded. "One… two…"

"T'ree!" The two lifted together, and Raphael ended up, more or less gracefully, on the bed. He lay back with a groan. Ann went to the end of the bed, cradling his head in her hands. He closed his eyes, letting her fingers brush the back of his neck. She began to arrange pillows to cradle his head and neck. The shape of his shell made lying on his back awkward at best.

"Don, did you do this?" asked Ann, glancing at the purple-banded turtle. Her fingers brushed Raph's scalp, just shy of touching the delicate stitches.

"No. Gene stitched that before we arrived. He does nice work," commented Donatello. He began unwrapping Raph's leg. "Bev, give him a shot of morphine, will you?"

"Don…" Raph began to protest.

"Trust me, bro, you're going to need it," said Donatello. Raph sighed, but subsided. Beverly prepared the injection and stuck it into Raph's bicep. He grunted when the needle slid home, sighing as the painkiller took effect.

"Stuff… makes me… sick," he grumbled.

"I know," said Ann softly, stroking his forehead. "But it'll dull the pain."

Raph gasped, jerking as Donatello pressed his fingers along the length of his leg. "Sorry, Raph," said Don, not looking up. "It looks like it was a clean break. Sierra actually did a really good job. I don't think it'll need to be re-set."

"Thank _shell_ fer dat at least," breathed Raph.

"No, thank _Sierra_, Raph," said Don with a grin. "Looks like you had yourself a guardian angel."


	7. Chapter 7 Refuge

**A/N: With this chapter, I'd like to remember the sugar-gliders who were members of our real-life family over the past 15 years. Candy was our first. She was a dear sweet little girl. Then along came Baby Ruth, Snickers and Peppermint. Later, the sisters, Caramel and Cream joined our family.**

**All have since gone to play in the jungles over the Rainbow Bridge. Play hard, little ones. You were loved, and are missed.**

**A bit of fluff with this chap. Don't worry, the action will begin to heat up again very soon.  
**

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_God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble._

-David, Psalm 46:1 NIV

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_Chapter 7 –Refuge-  
~~~_

Sierra let Gene walk her home, only because she still felt a little lightheaded and dizzy. He stopped at the door of her apartment building, watching as she fumbled for her key.

"Are you sure you won't come over, Sierra? You know Marjory would be thrilled. We have a spare bedroom."

"I can't, Gene," said Sierra with a smile. "Thank you, but I'd rather just be alone."

"I know, Sierra, but you're never alone. Not really," said Gene gently, touching her arm. She nodded. The man hesitated a moment. "Sierra, those guys in black… they're dangerous. And they're probably looking for us now. We interfered with a war that's been going on for at least a decade, probably a lot longer. These guys, they don't take things like this lightly. They don't let people who interfere in their business live."

Sierra glanced at him. "Gene, it's not as though I've never dealt with people who want to hurt me before. I'll be fine."

"This is different," he said. She looked up at the urgency in his voice. "When I get home, I'm going to talk to Marjory. Then we're going to start packing. In the morning we'll head up to her parent's place in Saskatchewan. You're welcome to come with us, Sierra. In fact, I wish you'd consider it."

"What? You're… you're leaving?" Sierra leaned against the door, her face going pale with shock. "But… what about the church? Gene, you can't just… leave."

"It's just for a while, until I think it's safe to come back," said Gene gently. "Sierra, I've lived in this city my entire life. I _know_ the Foot. They won't rest until the hunt us down. But I have contacts still, here in the city who can let me know when it's safe to come back. In a few months, this will blow over. I'll call Steve Grayson when I get home. He and the other deacons can run things in my absence and I have a pastor friend who can take over the Sunday services for a while. Sierra, it's not safe for you to stay here. Please, come with us."

"I… can't, Gene." Sierra shook her head. "I just can't."

"I understand, Sierra, but please, this is a matter of life or death."

"'Death where is your victory'," quoted Sierra quietly. "'Where is your sting'? I'm not afraid of dying, Gene."

He looked at her for a long moment before letting loose a heavy sigh. "Marjory and I will wait, Sierra. We won't leave for a few days, ok? I'll give you as long as I can to think it over. I really wish you'd consider coming with us. Let us help you. Let us keep you _safe._"

"I'll… think about it. But Gene, you should just go. You know I can take care of myself. Take care of Marjory."

"I _am,_" he told her softly. His gentle brown eyes twinkled. "She'd have my hide if anything happened to you."

Sierra smiled. "Good night, Gene."

"Good night, Sierra. Call us if you need _anything_."

"I will." She turned the key in the lock and disappeared inside. Gene sighed, and turned away, heading toward his own inviting apartment where he knew his wife was waiting.

_Oh, Sierra,_ he thought. _Your faith is strong, but when will you realize you don't have to face the giant alone? When will you learn to let someone help you?_

***

Sierra climbed the stairs to her apartment, aware of every creak, every sound the old building made. She opened her own door, scanning the room before stepping inside and bolting it firmly behind her. She slid the chain into place and set the sturdy metal brace against the door. Grabbing the aluminum bat from beside the door, she made a quick sweep of the apartment, checking for intruders before replacing the bat and going into the kitchen to fix a cup of tea. She flicked on the stereo, beginning to relax as her favorite song came on.

_I will sing of your mercy that leads me through valleys of sorrow to rivers of joy…_

She sang along with the chorus, putting the water on to heat. _Halleluuu-jah... Hallelujah… I will still look to the heavens; I will still seek your face…_She hummed, pouring the hot water over the metal ball that held the loose tealeaves, breathing in the aroma.

_Finally, peace._ She sank down into her padded rocking chair with her tea. Leaning over, she picked up a drawing pad from the table nearby. She slid a pencil out of the spiral binding, and opened the pad to a clean page. Slowly at first, then with more confidence, she began laying down strokes, capturing her memory of the graceful blue-banded turtle. His limbs appeared on the pad, muscled and tense as he held the katanas.

She hesitated a moment before drawing his head, her pencil lingering over the line of his jaw. She drew his eyes, frowned, erased, and drew them again, repeating the process until she was satisfied that the dark-eyed gaze looking up from the paper was the one she remembered. She sighed, flipping the page. This time her pencil moved surely across the paper as she sketched him again. She intended to draw the other turtle as he lay on the couch, but again Leonardo dominated the page. She'd drawn the image as she remembered it, standing at Raphael's head and slightly behind the couch, with Leonardo's face clearly visible. She found herself lingering over his eyes, adding detail until she could almost see him looking at her from the pad. She grabbed her colored pencils from the table, opening the tin and searching for just the right shades of green. She tried several before she found the one she sought.

_True green. How appropriate, _she thought with a smile. She began shading in his bicep, adding highlights and shadows until she could almost imagine his skin under her fingers when she brushed them across the paper. His shell proved more complex, but finally she captured the whorls with a combination of sienna, brown umber, khaki and olive, with a touch of bronze yellow for the highlights.

_Ocean blue comes closest to the color of his mask,_ she thought, carefully shading in the way it lay over his face, clinging to his eye-ridges as closely as a hug. Sierra remembered the silken band she'd taken off of Raphael's face, and wondered if Leonardo's blue mask was made of the same material. Her breath caught in her chest as she imagined touching his mask.

_Not that he'd let me,_ she thought absently. _I only got to touch Raphael because he was unconscious. They are amazing. Their skin is so different, but so beautiful. It's softer than I would've guessed._

She sighed, noticing that her drawing was out of balance, with Leonardo almost completely detailed while Raphael was still a ghostly outline in the foreground. Reaching for her pencils again, she chose a darker green and began shading in the red-banded turtle's features. Still, she found her gaze drawn to the picture of Leonardo, adjusting a shadow here, adding a highlight there. Soon, Raphael was finished, but he still faded into the picture, while the focus remained clearly on his brother, leaning over him with concern showing in every line etched into his expression.

Sierra smiled. She closed the book and picked up her teacup, taking a sip of the cooling liquid. Hearing a tiny _bark_ behind her, she turned with a smile. "Well hello there, Ruth," she said softly. "So you're finally awake, are you?" She stood up and moved to the kitchenette. She fetched a papaya out of the refrigerator and cut a generous slice. She slid the pieces into a bowl, and added a dose of special mixed food. Crossing the room, she laughed as beady black eyes regarded her from inside a large wire enclosure. "Hi there, baby girl," she whispered. The sugar glider barked again, and Sierra smiled.

"Where's your sister?" she whispered softly, so as not to startle the animal. A sleepy head poked out of a pouch hanging in one corner. "There you are, Candy. You'd better hurry up, now, before your greedy sister eats all the food," she teased. She opened the door, and slid the food dish into the holder. Ruth made an impossible leap across the cage, landing lightly on the shelf and scrambling up onto the side of the bowl. She crouched, snatching up a chunk of papaya and holding it in her front paws, her nose twitching as she nibbled the fruit. Candy, seeing her sister already eating, climbed out of the pouch and scrambled over the wire, plopping down on the shelf to get her share of food before it was gobbled up. Ruth made a scratchy crabbing noise of protest.

Sierra laughed. "All right, you two. There's plenty to go around," she scolded. She stepped back to allow the animals to enjoy their meal, leaving the cage door open. She went back to her chair. Picking up her Bible, she began to read. She'd only gotten through a few passages of the Psalms when a light weight landed on her head with a _thump_. Sierra jumped, and giggled as she felt claws scrabble against her scalp. "Ruth, you nut," she said softly, reaching up to allow the sugar glider to crawl onto her hand.

She touched the animal's silky back but Ruth launched off her hand, spreading the flaps of skin between her front and hind paws out wide to glide over onto the couch. She scrambled up the back. The brick façade on the wall behind the couch provided her a perfect climbing surface. She scaled the wall as if it weren't vertical, and launched herself again, landing on an armchair near where Sierra was sitting. She leapt to the floor, scrambling up the couch to repeat the performance, obviously enjoying herself.

The woman laughed with delight, watching the antics of her pet. She glanced at the cage. Candy was still crouching in the dish, gobbling the food as quickly as she could. Sierra chuckled. "Come on, Candy," she teased. "The food will still be there after you play." Candy looked up over the papaya she was nibbling but didn't stop eating. Sierra shook her head. She stood up, going over to the cage. She laid her hand across the threshold of the cage. "Come on," she coaxed. The little animal finished the papaya, dropping the rind carelessly to the floor. She crawled cautiously over, sniffing, her black eyes shining. Finally she crawled onto Sierra's hand, but only rested there a moment before launching herself into the air, joining her sister on the couch with a graceful glide. Sierra giggled. She watched for a while as the two chased each other around the room, racing up the wall to launch themselves over and over.

Finally, Sierra stood up, stretching. "All right, girls. It's time for bed." She made a soft clicking noise with her tongue. The gliders ignored her, chasing each other across the room, crabbing and barking. Sierra went to the kitchen and fetched a jar of honey. She scooped out a spoonful and carried it to the cage, drizzling it into the food dish.

"Hey, guys. Come on. I've got a treat for you." She made the clicking noise again. This time the two squirrel-like creatures raced across the room, climbing up the wire side of their enclosure and dashing inside. Soon they were crouched on the edge of the dish, licking up the honey as fast as their tiny pink tongues could go. Sierra smiled, closing the door and sliding the latch into place. "Silly girls," she whispered. "Good night."

***

Outside, a figure moved on the roof across from Sierra's apartment, crouching in the darkness of the shadows. The moon was full, and the shadows black, hiding the figure well as long as he stayed still. When he moved, the moonlight glinted off the blades he carried. He watched as her shadow moved behind the curtains. He frowned, seeing the heavy iron bars fastened over her windows. The apartment was like a small fortress, designed to keep unwanted visitors firmly outside.

The figure crouched there for a long time in the dark, watching, until long after the lights went out in Sierra's apartment. He would be back.


	8. Chapter 8 Desires of the Heart

**A/N: _Itoshii_ means "dearest" or "beloved".**

**Lots of fluffy fluff here, to cushion what's coming up. :)  
**

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_Chapter 8 –Desires of the Heart-  
~~~_

Austin Hamato snuggled close to Michelangelo, resting her head against his plastron, using his bicep as a pillow. He grunted as she shifted, her knee bumping against his bandaged leg.

"Sorry," she whispered. She stretched her fingers to brush the skin of his neck. He half-rolled toward her, to wrap his free arm more firmly around her, drawing her closer. Austin sighed, her arm wrapping around his shell. She lifted her head to gaze into his sleepy blue eyes.

"What?" he asked, watching her.

"You guys have to be more careful," she told him. "I'm going out with you from now on."

"No way, dudette," he said, his eyes widening.

"_Way_," she said firmly. She leaned forward, kissing him gently, trailing her lips along his jaw line. Michelangelo gasped, tilting his head back to give her better access. She trailed kisses into the hollow of his throat, feeling his arms tighten around her as he shivered. Gently, mischievously, she moved her fingers against his skin. He wriggled under her.

"You're tickling me," he complained softly.

Austin raised her head and gave him a smile. "I know."

Michelangelo chuckled. His arms tightened on her shoulders, and he rolled back onto his carapace, taking her with him, pulling her across his plastron. Austin smiled and wrapped her arms more firmly around him. His muscular hand moved across her back, sliding under her shirt to touch the silky skin underneath. She shivered against him and sighed contentedly.

"I love you," she whispered as his hands roamed, exploring, teasing.

"I love you too, Babe."

She lifted her upper body, staring into his eyes. She laid her hands firmly on his shoulders, pinning him back against the bed. He lay limp, unresisting, his eye-ridges rising with humor. "What?"

"I _mean_ it," she said softly, seriously. "You guys _have_ to be more careful."

"Hey." He reached up, capturing her shoulders, trying to draw her down, but she kept her elbows straight, staring into his eyes. "Austin, I barely got a scratch. Raph's the one who's hurt, Honey and he's gonna be ok."

"I… I can't bear it if anything happened to you," she whispered. "Mike…"

"Austin, nothin's gonna happen. What's the matter, Babe? You've been acting funny for the last couple weeks. What's wrong? Austin, please. Don't hide things from me," he whispered, moving his hand to cup her cheek.

She closed her eyes and pressed her face against his hand, turning to brush her jaw against his finger and kiss his palm. Michelangelo drew in sharp gasp as her breath feathered between his fingers, soft and warm.

She sank down, letting her weight rest on his chest. His arms came around her and a soft moan escaped him. "Austin…"

"I… I wasn't going to tell you yet," she whispered.

Michelangelo swallowed hard, controlling his breathing with an effort. Austin's arms wrapped around his shell again. Her fingers played against the back of his neck. "Austin, if you keep doing that…" he felt her laughter shiver against his plastron.

"How… how do you feel about kids, Mike?" she asked softly.

"What? Why? Do you wanna make one?" Mikey asked with a grin.

"Michelangelo!" Austin blew out a sigh. "I'm serious."

"I love 'em," said Mike seriously. "And I love _you._" His hand rubbed lazily over her back. Austin lay still, searching for the right words. Suddenly, his hand stopped moving. She felt his muscles tense.

"Austin…"

She shifted, suddenly nervous. "Mike, I…"

"Do ya wanna try for a baby? Is that what you're asking?" he asked softly. His voice shook. Austin felt tears sting her eyes at the longing and hope in his voice. He was shaking. "I… I didn't know… I didn't know if you'd want to…"

"Mike," she said softly.

"I mean, if you don't wanna," he said as if she hadn't spoken, "I'm ok. I love _you_. If you don't wanna try to have a family, you know, living down here and all…"

"Hamato _Michelangelo_," she said, raising a hand and laying her fingers gently over his mouth. "_Itoshii_. Hush." She slid her hand along his jaw line and caressed his neck, knowing her touch soothed and calmed him. Still, he held himself tense, his arms rigid around her, as if he was afraid she'd push him away.

_Oh, Mikey. Don't you know by now how much I love you?_ She felt something warm and wet against her fingers and raised her head to gaze into his blue eyes. He turned his face, avoiding her look, and wiped his cheek against the pillow.

"Mike?" she whispered.

"'m sorry, Austin," he said, his voice low. "I just… I _do _want kids. More than anything. I mean, it's stupid, I know. I mean, I've got _you_. An' I've got the best family. I've got everything I could ever want. If you don't wanna try for kids, I… I understand."

_He sounds like a child who's trying to convince himself he's ok with not having what he wants most in the world,_ thought Austin. _Oh, Mikey… You've never believed you could have happiness, have you? All your life you were told that what we have was out of reach. Well, it's not. And neither is your dream of having little ones of your own. I just hope my body can carry this little one and that our DNA is similar enough. I hope it allows for your child to be as special and beautiful as you are._

"Mike, you big goof," she whispered, cupping a hand against his cheek. "I've been trying to tell you… I… I'm pregnant." She whispered the words before her courage could fail her, almost afraid to speak it aloud.

"You… what?"

Austin lowered her eyes, almost afraid to meet his gaze. She waited. Suddenly, Michelangelo's arms wrapped around her, taking her breath away. He squeezed her so tightly, she was sure her ribs would crack. She trembled in his arms, fear and joy warring in her heart, and felt his answering tremors. She heard him sniff and lifted her head with some difficulty, to see tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Mike? You're crushing me," she whispered. Immediately his hold loosened. He looked anxiously at her, searching her face.

"I'm sorry!" He sounded slightly panicked. "Are you ok? I didn't mean to hurt you!"

Austin smiled, reaching up to wipe the tears from his face. "Are _you_ ok?" she asked softly.

Michelangelo's smile was blinding. "I'm gonna be a dad," he whispered. His face went slightly pale, and his smile faltered. "Oh, man. Austin… I'm gonna be a _dad_."

She laughed out loud, and kissed him. His arms tightened around her shoulders again as the kiss deepened. Finally, Austin moved away, nuzzling her face against his cheek. She tucked her chin against his neck. "You're going to be the _best_ dad ever," she whispered.

"Are… are you sure?" he asked softly.

"Mike, of course I am," she told him. "You're great with kids. This baby is going to _love_ having you for a dad."

"I… I always kinda thought Leo'd be the one to have kids, you know?" Michelangelo's finger traced lazily along her spine. "He's more the father type. I'm… I'm just the clown." His voice was so soft and unsure, Austin was sure her heart was cracking in two.

"Michelangelo, you are _not_ just a clown," she said softly. "You are strong. You're fun to be with. You're playful. You're an amazing cook. You can teach our child so many things. You're going to do great."

"I can't wait to tell 'em," said Mike. Austin could feel him smile. "The guys, I mean. I can't wait to tell 'em they're gonna be uncles."

"Do you think they'll be happy for us?"

"Happy? Austin, they're gonna be bouncin' off the _walls_. I mean, Donny'll have somebody new to teach science and math an' stuff to, and Raph'll have the little guy watching wrestling with him and Casey. Splinter'll be thrilled…"

"What about Leonardo?" whispered Austin, sensing his hesitation.

"He'll be happy for us," Mike answered a little too quickly. "He's my brother. Of course he'll be happy."

"He will, you know," she said softly. "Mikey, he loves you. He'll be glad. And he'll make a great uncle."

"Yeah, he will." He shifted slightly, cradling her more comfortably against his plastron. Austin nuzzled his neck, nipping at his skin with her lips. He gasped.

"Oh… Oh, Austin…"

She lifted her head, grinning mischievously, and smothered his whimper with a kiss.

***

Leonardo slipped into the Lair as quietly as a shadow, not wanting to disturb his sleeping family. After they'd all retired to their various bedrooms, he'd gone back out for a little while. He loved his sisters-in-law but sometimes the Lair seemed a little crowded to him.

_I suppose this is what it's like to have sisters,_ he thought, looking around the main room of the Lair. The ancient, tattered rug had been replaced with a brighter oriental carpet. The old, beat up couch was gone. The new couch had a slipcover for easy washing, and Leo had to admit it was a lot more comfortable than the previous model. Splinter's chair remained in its place, a testament to the respect and affection the girls showed the rat. Some pictures adorned the walls now, complimenting the scrolls nicely. The place felt… homey.

_I was afraid the girls would take over. Austin was so easy to live with, but then Ann came. Then Beverly… I thought those two would never get along. But here we are, and it works. We're all a family, a team. Things have changed, for the better. My brothers are happy. It's more than I could've ever asked for._

He made his way quietly toward the kitchen to fix a cup of tea before heading off to bed. He frowned, noticing a light was on in the room. "Sensei?" Leonardo whispered.

Splinter looked up from his cup of tea. "Welcome home," he said softly. "Why were you out so late, Leonardo?"

"I… wanted to check up on the humans who helped us tonight," said Leo, pouring himself a cup of tea and settling in the chair across from his father. "The Foot may be after them, because they helped us."

"You gave the man a way to contact you?"

"Yes. I gave Gene my number," said Leonardo. "There was… something about him. I… I'd like to talk to him again."

"What is it about this man that troubles you, my son?" asked Splinter.

Leonardo shook his head. "I'm not… troubled, exactly, Master. I just… don't understand. He… wasn't afraid of us. He shook my hand as if…"

"As if you were no different from him?"

"Yes, yes, that's exactly it," said Leo. "There's something about him. He's not like any human I've met before."

"Leonardo, surely your brothers' experiences in finding love have taught you that not all humans fear and hate what is different from themselves. There are some who are able to look beyond the exterior, to the heart," said Splinter gently.

"Oh, I know, Sensei," said Leo. "I guess… I've just never met such total acceptance before, such calm compassion and wisdom. He… he's a lot like _you_, Father."

"This intrigues you?"

"Yes, Sensei." Leonardo looked at the old rat. His dark eyes were troubled. "If… if you don't mind, I'd like to stay in contact with him."

Splinter's eyebrows rose. His son was usually so careful about having any unnecessary contact with the outside world. "Leonardo, even those who would be our allies might not understand us," he said calmly.

"I… I know, Sensei," said Leo, his gaze dropping to the table. "I… won't talk to him if you forbid it."

"I do not," said Splinter gently. "If your heart leads you to speak to this man again, you may, with my blessing."

"Thank you, Father." said Leonardo. When he looked up, Splinter was startled to see tears standing in his eyes.

"There is something more troubling you?" he asked. Leonardo shook his head. Splinter reached out and laid his hand on his son's arm. The turtle glanced at his father.

"It's just… the girl we met tonight. I… I can't stop thinking about her. I… I went to her apartment tonight. To… to check. To be sure she was safe."

"You were right to be concerned. The Foot do not forgive those who aid their enemies," said Splinter.

"Yes, and I also checked Pastor Gene's apartment," said Leonardo reluctantly, "I'm sorry, Sensei. I… I think I'm just tired. Perhaps I should… go to bed."

"Good night, Leonardo," said Splinter gently.

_Oh, my son. What is it about this woman that intrigues you so? Is it possible you are considering the happiness your brothers have found? I hope that you might one day too find someone to love you as well. I hope that you choose cautiously. As the Leader of your clan, the woman you choose as your life-mate must be worthy of the position, able to handle all that goes with the responsibilities you carry. I hope you will proceed cautiously, my son. Our family's safety depends upon it._


	9. Chapter 9 I Will Fear No Evil

**A/N: Cliff ahead. Don't say I didn't warn you.  


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_Chapter 9 -I Will Fear No Evil-  
~~~_

Marjory Spencer glared at her husband, her hands on her hips. "You didn't bring her _home_ with you?" she asked.

Gene held up his hands as if in surrender. "I _tried_, Marj. She wouldn't come. You know how Sierra gets. Anyway, that apartment of hers is like a fortress. You've seen the bars she has on the windows. I doubt anyone could get in there. She's probably safer than we are."

His wife was not to be dissuaded so easily. "Gene, she shouldn't be alone. She was knocked unconscious. She's had a traumatic experience…"

"It's hardly her first," said Gene softly. He crossed the short space to his wife, gathering her up in his arms. "Listen, it's late. Why don't we get some sleep? I'll call the deacons in the morning and let them know we're leaving town for a while. You can call Sierra and talk her into coming with us."

"Gene… I don't think we should go," said Marjory softly. She wrapped her arms around her husband's waist, drawing him closer. She leaned back to look up at him as she felt him stiffen.

"Marjory…"

"Gene, hear me out. I _know_ you're afraid of these Foot people. I know what goes on out there, in those city streets." She shivered against him. "But this is our _home_. This is where the Lord has planted us. At least we should pray through this."

Gene sighed. "You're perfectly right, of course," he said softly. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "The Lord has been good to us. That neighborhood has had its share of violence and yet our congregation has been spared. God has been looking after us all these years, hasn't He? Maybe He has a plan in all of this."

"I know He does," said Marjory quietly. "It's our job to stand firm until He tells us to move."

***

Sierra was not sleeping well. Figures plagued her dreams, clawing, chasing her, catching at her hair and clothes as she ran. She cried out, gasping for breath. From far away, she could hear the faint cry of a child.

She tried to run toward the sound but there was something holding her back, as if the darkness itself were material, thick and black, binding her arms and legs. She was falling… cold, cruel laughter filling her ears. She could feel cloth in her fingers, the soft cotton of a baby's tee-shirt, ripped away as hands caught at her arms, pulling her back, holding her.

_No! Let me go… Haley! _It was no use. The hands clutched at her, tearing her clothes, pulling her down, down into the depths, drowning her…

A flash of metal, the clang of swords. Dark eyes loomed from the deeper black, watching, furious, vengeful, angry…

_Get away from my brother!_

She came awake as the sword sliced into her chest. Sierra sat up in the bed, gasping. She kicked at the sheets that had once again wound themselves around her legs. Familiar yips and barks drifted from the living room.

_I must've been shouting in my sleep again,_ she thought. _The girls are disturbed. _

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she took a deep breath. Sleep would not return tonight.

_Water. And perhaps something a bit stronger, to help me sleep. _She staggered to the kitchen.

The water was easy enough. A couple ice-cubes rattled in the cup and Sierra poured water from a jug in the 'fridge. She only drank bottled water. She sniffed it carefully before pouring, cautious even in her half-asleep state.

The rum proved harder to track down. She'd hidden it from herself again. Finally she found it, tucked in the nook under the glider's cage. She hesitated only a moment before pouring a small shot. The burn was familiar… too familiar, too comfortable, as it slid down her throat. It would be easy to pour another shot and another… she remembered why she'd hidden the bottle, to prevent herself from spiraling, from using the liquid crutch. She took a deep breath and returned the bottle to its niche. Tonight, she would use only one shot, one drink to keep her demons at bay. The battle won one more time, she went to sit in her rocking chair, unwilling to return to bed just yet.

Reaching over, she picked up her pad and flipped through the pages. Those eerie dark eyes looked out at her again. She brushed her fingers over the page, allowing herself to remember Raphael's skin under her fingertips and wondering if his brother's skin was the same.

_It looked smoother,_ she thought. _A bit lighter green. And his eyes… His eyes are so dark, so mysterious. He was so courteous, so strong, like no one I've ever known before. I was certain he'd kill us both when he found us with Raphael. He was frightening. And yet he was so… civilized. What an odd combination, of warrior and gentleman. He's wary and protective of his family and yet he allowed us to help him get Raphael home again, even accepted the wheelchair from Gene. I'm sure it will come back again, even though Gene told them to keep it. He seems like the kind of person who won't accept charity. He must've been desperate to let us help at all._

Her own eyes were drifting slowly closed, the alcohol working its way through her system when a sound at her window jerked her awake. _What on earth? _She went to the window and peered out but nothing moved in the darkness. A small _yip_ from the glider's cage, and she turned, grinning.

"Silly girls," she whispered, going to the cage. "It's nearly bed time, and you two are still playing. It'll be light out soon." she watched the little creatures chase one another around the enclosure, punctuating their play with little yips and crabbing noises.

Sierra straightened, stretching. _I suppose I might as well try to catch a few hours of sleep._ She turned toward her bedroom. A tiny scraping noise at the window caught her attention once more. Slowly, cautiously, she made her way to the window and peered out through the slim space between the heavy curtains. She wasn't sure, but she thought she saw a shadow move just outside the iron grate. Swearing softly under her breath, Sierra backed away from the window.

_Maybe Gene was right about those Foot guys. It sure looks like someone wants in. Well, I'll teach them to regret it._

She crossed the room, her socks silent on the carpet and snatched up the baseball bat propped next to the door. Crouching near the window, she waited. It wasn't long before the scratching scraping noise gave way to a muffled _thump_. Sierra's heart began to race.

_They got the grating off. I can't believe they actually got the bars off the window. These guys are determined. Maybe I should make a break for it out the front door… But they've probably got that escape route covered. Why would they go through the trouble of breaking in the window only to leave my front door wide open for me to run through? Besides, I can't leave the girls._

She held the baseball bat over her head. The window shivered, manipulated by unseen hands. Slowly, it moved, opening inward. The bat crashed down on the black-clad ninja's head just as he crawled through the open window. The three ninjas crowding in behind him avoided Sierra's assault by snatching the bat from her hands and shoving her backward against her own front door hard enough to bounce her head off the solid wooden panel. Dazed, Sierra sank to the floor. She curled up, covering her head with her hands instinctively, struggling to orient her focus so that she could strike out against her attackers.

_Gene, I should've listened to you. I'm so sorry,_ she thought. _I hope you will be safe, that they won't get to you too. At least if I die, I'll be with Haley again. God forgive me for failing to protect my baby girl,_ she prayed, repeating the words she'd so often offered up in the past two years. _Please accept me into Your Heaven. If I'm allowed to see her just one more time, it will be enough._

She struggled to her feet, lashing out as a black-clad figure moved toward her. He grabbed her wrist, twisting her arm. She writhed instinctively, going with the twist instead of against it, a move that shocked her attacker into releasing her arm. She struck out with a swift left jab, catching him in the solar plexus before he returned with a palm-strike to her cheek. Sierra sagged to the floor.

The Foot soldier leaned down, pinning the woman with one hand. He lifted a short dagger, poised to drive it into her neck, when a hissed word in a foreign language stopped him.

Akio glanced at his fellow soldier, annoyed at the interruption. He wanted to get this assassination over with so he could get back. He found killing outside of battle distasteful, especially the killing of a beautiful woman like the one cowering at his feet, but he would follow orders. The other soldier was holding a pad of paper in his hands, holding it up, so that the Akio could see the image on the paper. His eyes widened behind the shiny eyepieces. The picture on the paper was clearly a portrait of their enemies.

_The Turtles! _In an instant, he made a decision. Leaning down, he grabbed the woman by the neck, hauling her to her feet.

"_Search this place for any clue to our enemy's whereabouts,"_ he hissed in Japanese. _"We will return this one to Karai for questioning."_

The woman squirmed. She managed to land a sharp jab to his stomach. His first instinct was to snap her neck, but he reined it in.

"Be still," he hissed in English. "Or I will make you _wish_ you had not resisted me."

The woman struggled harder, ignoring his threat. Aiko smiled grimly under his mask. This one would offer a challenge. She was spirited. He wondered how long she would take to break.


	10. Chapter 10 Good News

**A/N: _Ani_ means (older) brother.**

* * *

_Chapter 10 –Good News-  
~~~_

Austin stretched, reaching high with her fingertips as if she could brush the dojo's tall, rounded ceiling far above her head. It was clear she was fully aware that she was distracting her sparring partner. Michelangelo drew a deep breath, letting it out slowly and looking away from his wife's slender form.

"Michelangelo, you know you have to learn not to be distracted by what's going on around you," said Leonardo, just keeping the chuckle out of his voice.

He heard a smothered giggle from the side of the room where Beverly and Ann were practicing their basic katas. Only Austin was advanced enough to actually train with the boys. The other girls were learning some basic self-defense moves out of necessity, and practiced katas, Beverly working with the bo Don had made for her, but neither had shown the interest or skills in martial arts that Austin possessed.

Austin just smiled. She gave Mike a short, formal bow and picked up the weapon she'd chosen for the sparring session, a han-bo. Shorter than Don's full-size bo, the staff was a good size and weight for Austin. The two circled.

Leonardo watched, allowing himself a small smile. Before Austin arrived in the Lair, Donatello had been the only one to regularly best Mikey in a spar. He was the only brother able to withstand Michelangelo's constant stream of comments and insults for long, the only one Mike couldn't draw into throwing the first strike with taunts.

Today Michelangelo seemed subdued. He was watching Austin with uncharacteristic trepidation.

_I wonder if they've argued. Maybe she's mad at him? Would he hold back, trying to appease her? He'll just make her madder if he doesn't give her a good workout,_ thought Leo.

Austin's sweep came so quickly Leonardo heard Donatello whistle softly in admiration. Michelangelo jumped back, avoiding the bo. His nunchucks spun, but he didn't take advantage of the proximity of her weapon. Leonardo frowned. Mike should've been able to catch the bo with the chain of his 'chuck and possibly disarm his partner. He saw Austin's eyes narrow.

The han bo snapped out again, faster this time, catching Mike on the arm. She followed with another quick strike. Michelangelo turned, allowing the staff to slide off his carapace but again he avoided returning the blow. Austin was frowning now. She crouched in a more aggressive stance. Leo saw Mike's eyes widen, taking on almost a pleading expression as he gazed at his wife.

_What is Mikey doing?_ he thought. _He'd better give her a real workout or she'll really hand him his shell. She doesn't like it when we hold back with her. She'd rather be beaten fairly than win a match against a partner who's holding back._

Austin's next series of strikes rattled off Mike's shell like a drum solo. Dropping one side of her han bo, she struck out with her fist, catching him on the chin. Mike responded instinctively with a block and a sweep, dropping Austin to the mat. Leo felt pride well in his chest. He knew Austin had provoked Mike's reaction on purpose. She was through fooling around.

Mike's response was instant. He dropped his nunchucks, and fell to his knees at his wife's side.

"Austin! I'm sorry, Babe! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to… are you ok?" Tears were standing in Michelangelo's blue eyes.

"Mike, what is _wrong_ with you?" snapped Leo. He hated it when they fooled around in practice or let arguments or lovers' spats come into the dojo.

"Michelangelo, I'm _fine_," snapped Austin, pushing his offered hand away.

"I can't do this," said Mikey, half-sobbing. "Austin, please… don't spar any more. Please…"

Donatello's attention had completely deteriorated now from helping the girls with their katas. His eyes were snapping from Mike to Austin as if he were watching a tennis match.

"Mike, we talked about this. I'm _fine_," said Austin. She looked at Michelangelo's stricken expression and her face softened. "Really. Honey, I'm fine." She reached up and took his hand in her own, allowing him to lift her to her feet.

"Are you sure? You're not hurt?" Mikey was panicked. "Maybe Donny should look you over. Maybe you should lie down…"

"Michelangelo, I'm _fine,_" said Austin again. She was blushing now, avoiding Leonardo's eyes. She dusted her pants off.

Leonardo stared at his brother as if he'd lost his mind, aware that Don's expression was a mirror to his own. He opened his mouth to reprimand his brother and demand an explanation for his weird behavior, when a soft chuckle sounded.

"Michelangelo, Austin, I believe it is time you shared your news with the rest of the family," said Splinter gently. He got up from the short bench where he'd been watching the training and approached the couple.

"Oh! Sensei," Mike turned to face his father, swallowing hard. "I… umm… Wait a minute… you _know_?"

"I do, my son."

Beverly and Ann came to stand beside Austin.

Bev shot Leo a cocky grin before moving to touch Donatello's arm. "We all knew, Leo, so no going all 'Fearless Leader' on Austin and Mike. If you're mad, you have to be mad at all of us."

She turned to Donatello, squeezing his arm gently. "Sorry, Donny," she said softly. "Austin asked us not to tell."

"Tell what?" asked Don, confused.

"Wait, my sons. Raphael should be present for this announcement as well. Let us move to the main room," suggested Splinter. The little group filed solemnly out of the dojo. Leo saw Donatello look questioningly at Beverly, but she just shook her head. Whatever the news was, they'd all have to wait to hear it until Raph was present, too.

Raph looked up, startled, as they came out into the living area. It had taken all three of his brothers to move him to the couch from his bed, but the lowered volume of his complaints about being bedridden was worth the trouble.

"Ann, what's goin' on?" he growled. Ann came over to kneel beside him, gazing into his amber eyes with a smile, completely unafraid of his temper, since she could easily match it with her own.

"It's Mikey's news to tell," she told him gently.

"Mike, what is going _on_?" asked Leonardo, confused and exasperated. Only Splinter's smile kept him from losing his temper.

"Well, we uh…" Michelangelo stammered. Austin reached over and clasped his hand in hers, giving him a reassuring smile and a nod. Mike met Leonardo's eyes. "We, well, I guess Austin… we're… gonna have a baby," he announced.

"What? Mikey, are you sure?" asked Donatello, his eyes going wide. "Austin…"

"I'm _sure_, Don," said Austin with a smile. Don blushed, looking flustered.

Beverly grinned. "She is, Donny. I confirmed it myself," she said gently.

Leonardo stared, his mouth hanging open. Michelangelo looked at his brother's expression. His face clouded and Leo shook his head as if to clear it.

"Smooth, Leo, real smooth," said Beverly, shooting the blue-banded turtle a dark look.

Austin laughed and the momentary tension was broken. "Leonardo, _ani,_ you're happy for us, aren't you?" she asked. She went to the leader and reached for his hand. "We're counting on you guys to help us. This little guy's going to need his uncles."

"Oh! Oh, of course. Austin… Wow. I'm just… I'm just a little…" Leo's smile spread slowly across his face. "I'm gonna be an uncle." He beamed, catching Austin up in a hug and swinging her around.

Raphael smirked. "Congrats, you two," he said softly, slipping an arm around Ann's waist and drawing her closer. "You finally rendered Fearless here speechless."

Leonardo chuckled, unrankled by Raph's taunt. "It's just… a shock, that's all," he admitted, looking a bit sheepish. "It's great." He met Mike's eyes and smiled. "I mean it, bro. I'm thrilled for you. For us, for all of us." He gave Austin a squeeze and held out his hand to Mike.

Michelangelo's face lit up. "I love you guys." He plowed into Leo's plastron, wrapping his brother up in a bone-crushing hug. Donatello leaped into the group hug as well. Raph's arms twitched with his desire to get up off the couch and join in, but Ann put a gentle hand on his arm, stilling him. The embrace quickly deteriorated into a friendly wrestling match, which had the girls scrambling to get out of the way.

Splinter shook his head, but he was smiling. "Austin, I believe my sons will no longer allow you to engage in training," he said quietly.

Donatello popped up from the flurry of green limbs and shells. He stood up, straightening his mask as if he hadn't just engaged in an undignified free-for-all with his brothers. "Sensei's right, Austin. You shouldn't be sparring," he scolded. "You're going to have to take it easy."

"Don, I'll go nuts if you try to put me on bed rest," said Austin, her hands on her hips. "I'm _not_ sitting around for the next six months with nothing to do!"

Beverly stepped forward. "Don, even with complicated pregnancies, exercise is beneficial for the woman in the early months," she said firmly. "Maybe she shouldn't take part in full training, but she'll need to continue with stretching and strength exercises." Don started to protest, but Bev held up her hand. "Trust me, Donny. I've helped deliver a lot of babies. It's easier if the mother is in good shape."

"But with the mutation…"

"She's three months along and progressing normally," said Bev. "We're going to need to do as much research and preparation as we can. I think she'll be ok."

"I wonder what the baby will look like," said Ann softly to Raphael, leaning against his plastron. "I mean, will it be human, or turtle?"

Donatello shook his head, overhearing. "There's no way to know," he said. "It could take on characteristics from both Mike and Austin. Nothing like this has happened before, at least that we know of. Bev, we've got a lot of reading to do," he said, taking his wife's hands in his own.

She nodded. "I think we should consult with Leatherhead as well," she said.

Leonardo watched his brothers and their partners discussing the amazing news. He shook his head.

_A baby. I just hope it's healthy. With Don and Bev taking care of Austin, everything should be ok. Wow. I never thought… I never thought one of us would make Splinter a grandfather. This is amazing. Poor Mike. He must be terrified. I know I would be._

"You are troubled, my son?" Splinter stood next to his son, watching the scene with his usual serene expression.

"No, Sensei," said Leonardo honestly. "I'm happy for them."

"This is indeed a day for celebration," said Splinter. "My sons." The little family turned to look at the ninja master. Splinter smiled. "And my daughters," he continued. "I believe this news is significant enough to warrant canceling practice for today."

Leonardo frowned for an instant, but quickly stifled his instinctive response. Splinter was right, training could wait for one day. The family had few enough things to celebrate. And a baby! They should embrace this moment.

"We've got to call April and Casey," he said suddenly. "To make plans for a party."

Michelangelo's face lit up. He loved parties. "Sweet!" he said. "I'll call April. Raph, why don'tcha call Casey."

"We're already planning a baby shower for Austin," said Ann with a grin. "We've been buying supplies for weeks."

"You did not," said Austin. Tears shone in her hazel eyes. "Where were you hiding things?"

"In Don's lab, where else?" answered Bev. Don glanced at her, shocked. "Oh, don't worry, Honey," she said gently. "I didn't let anyone near your experiments. I've got the stuff stashed in some boxes on the bottom shelf." Don's sigh of relief was clearly audible, and everyone laughed.

Leonardo was about to suggest they consider having the baby shower at April's when his shell cell vibrated in his belt. Not many people had the numbers to their cells and the majority of those privy to the information were present and accounted for. Leo felt his shoulders tense. A call on the shell-cells almost always meant trouble.

_I sure hope that's just April calling to invite us over for a movie night or needing Don to fix something for her,_ he thought, fully aware that either of those calls would likely have come to one of the girl's phones, or if Don were needed, directly to his. Leo's role as leader meant that the 'trouble' calls came most often to him.

He flipped open his phone. Gene Spencer's voice came through the device, sounding strained. "Leonardo?"

"Yes, Gene, what's the problem?" Leo was instantly on high alert. He'd expected the call, but had hoped it wouldn't come. "Have the Foot caused you trouble?"

"No, Leonardo, but... I'm sorry to bother you, but you said to call if we needed anything…"

"What's going on Gene? What happened?" asked Leonardo, moving out of the room. He didn't want to interrupt his family's joy until he absolutely had to.

Gene sighed. "It's Sierra. I came by her place to try to talk her into coming to stay with us again and… Leonardo, the place is a wreck. Sierra's gone."

"What?" Leonardo felt the blood drain from his face. "What happened?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure she's in trouble."

"Have you called the police?"

"No, I thought I'd contact you first. Do you want me to call them?"

"No, it's best that you haven't. If the Foot are involved, there's little they can do anyway. Where are you?"

"I'm still at Sierra's apartment. It's on the corner of Gibson and Sixty-second Street," said Gene, sounding surprised. "You're not coming over, are you? It's daylight out."

"No. Unless you think there's anything we can do there, we'll wait for dark to move. In the meantime, you and your wife need to get someplace safe. Gene, listen…" Leo hesitated. They owed Gene Spencer a lot for his help with Raphael. "Do you have a way to get out of town safely? Do you have someplace to go?"

"Well, yesterday I would've said yes, but now… I don't know if we'll make it out of town before they catch up with us," the man said. "I didn't expect them to move so quickly."

_Me neither,_ thought Leonardo. "Hang on, Gene."

"Ok."

Leonardo put his shell-cell down on the kitchen table. He stuck his head out into the main room. Raph and Ann were still chatting quietly. Austin was arguing with Michelangelo as Donatello and Beverly led her toward the lab. Splinter was shaking his head, smiling, as he moved toward the kitchen.

"Sensei, may I speak with you for a moment?"

"Of course my son," said Splinter.

"Sierra, the young woman who was helping Raph, is missing. Her apartment has been ransacked. I believe the Foot has moved faster than we expected. Gene and his wife may be in danger." Leonardo hesitated. "I… I'd like your permission to help them."

"What do you have in mind, Leonardo?" asked Splinter quietly. His steady gaze told Leo his father already knew what his question would be.

The turtle swallowed hard. He hadn't felt so uncertain since they were teenagers, but never before had their little family had so much to lose.

"I'd like to bring them here," he said quietly.

"Whatever you think is best," said Splinter. "I will ask the others to prepare a guest room."

Relief flooded Leonardo. While he might occasionally question his own judgment, Splinter's was nearly always sound. His father's approval of the plan went a long way toward quieting his anxiety. "Thank you, Father."

Leonardo picked up his shell-cell. "Gene?"

"Yes, Leonardo?" The man's voice sounded strained, as if the brief wait had been hard on his nerves.

"Stay where you are. I'm coming by to get you."

"What about Marjory? My wife… I can't just go off without her…"

"We'll pick her up, don't worry."

"Ok."

"Gene," said Leonardo, "Don't worry. Everything's going to be ok."

Gene Spencer put the phone down in the cradle with a sigh.

_Well, God, everything's in Your hands now. I just hope Leonardo and his brothers really are on the side of the angels. _


	11. Chapter 11 Into the Valley

* * *

**A/N: Yes, there is a death in this chap. No, it's not Sierra.  
**

* * *

_"Even though I walk through the Valley of the shadow of Death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me."_

-David, Psalms 23: 4

* * *

_Chapter 11 -Into the Valley of the Shadow of Death-  
~~~_

Sierra Jonstone was furious. She held on to the anger, wrapping it around her like a blanket, and used it as a shield against the fear that threatened to cut off her breathing as it squeezed her chest.

A dark hood prevented her from seeing where she was being taken. Her wrists and ankles were bound. Struggling was difficult, but she tried, squirming and kicking and issuing muffled curses interspersed with silently breathed prayers.

_Where on earth are they taking me? And what will they do when they get me there? Well, if they were going to kill me outright, surely they would've done it by now._

She gasped as she felt her captor leap again. She was half glad she couldn't see. Some of the seemingly-insane leaps the man carrying her had made, combined with the lengthy climb she'd endured, thrown over his shoulder like a sack of wheat, made her certain they were traveling across the rooftops.

_Please don't drop me… I don't want to die… not like this. Oh Lord give me courage to face whatever happens._

She squirmed again, aiming to drive her knees into his body, but he adjusted his hold, pinning her legs with his muscular arm and muttered something she couldn't understand. It sounded threatening, but she couldn't make out the words.

Suddenly they were falling, or so it seemed to Sierra. She shrieked as the world dropped out from under her and wind whistled past the exposed skin of her hands. They landed with a _thump_ that drove her breath from her lungs as she was crushed against his shoulder by gravity.

_I'm going to be sick… I wonder what he'll do if I vomit on him… Oh, this bag… better not… Hold it together Sierra. _

There was the sound of padded feet running, and Sierra heard what sounded like a door sliding open. It closed again, the _click_ echoing with a depressing finality.

_That can't be good._

She squirmed, struggling harder as she was carried along, but she was feeling weak from the long trek and she ached all over. Her captor said something incoherent again. Sierra strained to listen, but she couldn't understand the words.

_He's speaking a foreign language,_ she realized.

Someone answered, a deep, forbidding voice.

"_Hai."_

She felt him give a bow and prepared to be dumped to the floor, but he straightened again and carried her further still. She was dropped unceremoniously and without warning onto a hard, cold floor. With her hands bound behind her back, she couldn't catch herself and landed awkwardly. She felt something _snap_ in her arm and cried out.

Footsteps approached. She was hauled to her feet. She shrieked as her throbbing arm was yanked. Hands grabbed her shoulders and she felt something cold against her wrist. The bonds fell away. An instant later, the hood was dragged off her head.

She spun, facing her captors, and had to bite back another shriek.

_It's those stupid masks, that's all_, she told herself, drawing deep breaths to calm her pounding heart. _Just like the ones at the church. It's some kind of uniform. What did Gene call them? Foot ninjas? They certainly look like something other-worldly with those black masks._

Even as the thoughts raced through her mind, she backed away, her eyes darting around for an escape. The room was small and completely white. White walls, white floor, white ceiling. The black-masked figures moved in a three-sided ring to surround her. Two of them grabbed her arms. She screamed, kicking out, but they quickly fastened cuffs to her wrists. She found they were attached to the wall when she tried to lunge forward to kick the third ninja.

Once she was secured, the three turned and left the room, closing the door firmly behind them. Alone, Sierra backed up against the wall and sank down, cradling her injured arm in her lap. She tucked up her knees and leaned back, resting her head against the cool wall. She shivered. The room seemed unusually cold.

_I guess I'll be seeing you soon, Hayley,_ she thought sadly. _I told Gene I'm not afraid to die. I wish it were true._

***

Agent John Bishop watched the nervous woman standing before him from behind his dark glasses. She was thin, not elderly, but past her youth. He was willing to bet she'd never been truly pretty, with her long horse-face and large, dull brown eyes.

"You have information for me?"

"Well, I might," the girl hedged. "Depends."

"My dear woman," Bishop said smoothly. "Do not waste my time. Do you have something to tell me or not?"

"My boy went and joined that Foot group," said the woman, glaring into his face. "He heard about them turtles. I know about them." She nodded, smiling in satisfaction at the tension Bishop couldn't keep from tightening his facial muscles.

"I know them turtles are some kinda freaky aliens or somethin'. He told me about you, too. He told me there's some government crazies who want those turtles almost as bad as his friends. I know. I watch, I listen, I keep my mouth shut."

_I wish she'd keep her mouth shut now,_ thought Bishop. He turned away, closing his eyes against the beginnings of a headache.

"Admirable though your ability to dissemble information is, madam, I still fail to understand what use you think you can be to me, or what value you believe your information could possibly hold for my organization," he drawled.

"I know that turtle has a human girl," said the woman. "If ya don't care, then that's up to you. Those Foot friends of my boy's, they'll pay for the inside scoop on her. I know about her." Her thin face quirked with triumph when Bishop turned just a little too quickly.

"What are you talking about?" he hissed.

"One o' dem turtles, he's got a human girl with him," she insisted, smiling with the heady rush of power divulging such a juicy secret brought. "She used ta be one o' dem Foot. Now she left, an' the guy who runs the place is madder than a wet hen."

_Karai,_ thought Bishop. _The stupid woman doesn't realize the leader of the Foot clan is a woman. I wonder how viable her information really is? It will be easy enough to find out._

"And what does this have to do with me?" he asked coldly.

"See, I work at a clinic downtown," said the woman, smirking. She was enjoying drawing the story out, making him wait for the information. Bishop was quickly losing his patience.

"A pregnancy clinic," she added, seeing he wasn't impressed so far. "Where girls go what get themselves in the family way. When they don't want to go to the hospital. Some of 'em are kids, ya know, too scared ta go to the family doctor. Some of 'em ain't got no money, so they come to the free clinic. We give 'em the vitamins and stuff, so the babies get born healthy. It don't cost 'em nothin', and the kids come out healthy so Medicaid don't have to pay for a bunch of birth defects, see?"

_And the world is burdened with yet another generation of underachieving population producers. Lovely,_ thought Bishop. He waited.

"Well, dis girl came in last week. She wasn't real young, you know? Didn't look like the girls we usually get in there."

"Do get on with it," snapped Bishop, losing patience.

The woman sniffed. "She was pretty. Real pretty. Not scarred up, no drug use, not like a lot of 'em. An' there was somethin' about her… She was the type to go to a hospital, not a place like the clinic. She said she didn't need no hospital. She said she had her own doctor, but she needed the vitamins. Real sharp she was, too. Wouldn't tell us nothin' about the father, refused counseling."

Bishop's hand clenched into a fist. He was certain now the woman was a complete waste of time. He was about to call security to have her firmly escorted off the premises, but her next sentence stopped him cold.

"See, she's the girl that turtle guy's been with."

"How… how do you know this?" asked Bishop. Hope and suspicion warred in his heart. If the woman really was impregnated by one of those freaks of nature… A faint sheen of sweat broke out on the back of his neck.

_The scientific discoveries such a pregnancy could give us… What could we learn from the genetics of such a freakish cross-breed…_

"My boy tol' me," said the woman, triumph shining in her face. "I caught 'im hangin' around the clinic after she'd been there. He was askin' me questions about her. I didn't tell him nothin'. We ain't supposed ta tell, you know? Confidentiality and all that. But then he told me what the father might be."

"And why did you see fit to share this information with _me?_" asked Bishop coldly.

For the first time, the woman's composure wavered.

"They killed my boy," she said softly. "He ain't been home in three weeks. He begged me ta tell him about dat girl, an' I wouldn't, 'cause I need my job. He said he'd get in trouble if he didn't tell 'em why she was at the clinic. He said I was gonna get 'im killed by not tellin' him, but he said he wouldn't tell 'em about me, no matter what they did to him. He left, an' I ain't seen him since."

"What makes you think he's dead?" asked the man, watching her face.

Tears leaked down her sallow cheeks.

"My boy never fails ta come see me. He brings me money. He's a good boy. He didn't know what that Foot place was about. After he joined up, he said he couldn't leave. They wouldn't let him. And now he's dead. I know he is. He'd never go this long without comin' to see me."

"My condolences. However, once again I must ask. What does all this have to do with me?" Bishop asked lazily, though his mind was turning over like a well-tuned engine.

_We'll trace her down, find out where this clinic is she works at. Even these little "anonymous" places keep records. _

"You want ta know about dat girl, dontcha?" asked the woman shrewdly. "I can tell ya why she came to the clinic. I would've told my son, next time he came, but they didn't give him a chance. They killed him. I ain't gonna tell those Foot people nothin'. I'll tell you. Serves 'em right, it does."

"You'll tell me _what?_" asked Bishop. He leaned forward, menacing.

The woman didn't even flinch. She stared into his face, her gaze steady.

"Them Foot might suspect, but I can tell ya fer sure, she's pregnant. She came to the clinic for the vitamins. She didn't want a test, she said she was sure she was pregnant, but she needed da pre-natal vitamins, and we don't give 'em out without a test. State law. So she took a test. She's gonna have a baby."

For the first time since the woman entered his office, Bishop allowed himself a small smile.

"Madam, you have done your country a great service," he said softly.

"As long as you understand, I'm not doin' this for myself," she said sniffing. "I did it for my boy."

"I understand perfectly," he said, drawing the gun from his desk drawer in one smooth movement. The woman crumpled to the floor, unmarked by the alien weapon, her vacant eyes staring blindly at the ceiling as she was reunited with her poor dead son.


	12. Chapter 12 Introductions

**A/N: Please visit my profile to vote in a poll- What kind of baby should Mike and Austin have? A chibi-turtle, a human baby, or a hybrid mix of human/turtle DNA?**

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_Chapter 12 -Introductions_-  
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Marjory Spencer considered herself a blessed woman. She'd been married to Gene for seven years. Oh, she was aware of his past as a Purple Dragon. It didn't trouble her. She believed in forgiveness, in second chances. The Gene Spencer who'd been a two-bit hoodlum wasn't the man she married. He'd changed.

_Faith does that to people,_ thought Marjory, smiling.

He'd spoken, once, of the mysterious warrior who'd given him the thin scar that ran down one cheek when his katana just kissed his face. The fight changed Gene's life. The encounter had driven him to leave the PD's. After two years in the army, he'd felt called to the ministry and entered seminary. They'd met in his final year, and married barely six months later, a day after he'd graduated with honors.

When Gene told the story of that fateful night, there was something he held back… something he didn't come out and say about the person who'd changed his life. Marjory knew there was something… different about the mysterious fighter, by the look that came into her husband's eyes when he talked about him, but until the day Gene called her from Sierra Jonstone's apartment, she wasn't sure what.

***

"Stay inside. Lock the doors and windows. If anything happens, Marjory, go down the back stairs and lock yourself in the basement," he'd instructed.

"Gene, what on earth is going on?" She'd kept her tone steady with an effort.

_Lord, whatever's happening, I know You will protect us_.

"It's the Foot, Marj. They've taken Sierra. I called the… person I told you about. Leonardo. He's going to meet me here and we'll be over to pick you up. He says he can keep us safe and get Sierra back."

"You trust him?"

"I… I do." Gene's voice was soft, pleading. "Please, Marj. Just lock yourself in and wait for me. I'll be there as soon as I can, ok?"

"Gene?"

"Yes, Marj?"

"Be safe."

"I will, God willing. I love you."

"I love you too."

***

She'd hurried to do as he'd asked, locking the doors and windows, all the while conversing silently with God, asking His protection over Gene, Sierra, and this mysterious Leonardo. When she heard a knock at the door, she waited until Gene called to her to unlatch the deadbolt. He'd come in, quickly closing the door behind him.

"Where's your friend?" she asked, alarmed.

"He's waiting downstairs," said Gene quietly. Marjory noticed his face was pale, and his smile was strained, but his eyes were steady, confident. "Marj, there's something you should know about him before we go."

"What is it, Gene? We shouldn't keep him waiting."

Marjory picked up the small bags she'd packed with clothes and a few personal items for each of them. Gene had warned her they'd need to travel lightly.

"I want to be sure you know what we're getting into," he said.

"If you trust him, that's good enough for me," replied Marjory, meeting her husband's eyes steadily.

"Marj." Gene took her gently by the arms. "Please. Listen."

"What is it?" She set the bags on the floor and leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his waist and drawing him close.

"Leonardo's… he's different," he said carefully. "His appearance might be… a bit of a shock."

"Different, how?" asked Marjory. Gene knew she'd seen her fair share of the denizens of New York City. There shouldn't have been anything that would shock her by now.

"Well, for one thing… he's green."

Marjory almost laughed, but when she saw the serious expression on Gene's face, she frowned slightly.

"You're serious?"

"Yes. Leonardo and his brothers… Marjory, they're..." Gene swallowed hard. "They're mutants. They're basically as human as you or I, but they look… well, they frankly look like giant, bi-pedal turtles."

Marjory closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Ok." she said, opening her eyes again. "Anything else?"

"Yes," he said. "They're fighters, trained in the martial arts. Leonardo carries katanas. His brother, the one who had the accident at the church, has sai. The others use nunchucks and a bo staff."

"Katanas… isn't that… a kind of sword?" Marjory frowned, trying rather unsuccessfully to picture giant turtles carrying weapons, let alone using them.

"Yes," said Gene. His fingers strayed almost unconsciously to the scar on his cheek. "Leonardo is the one who gave me this mark," he said quietly.

Marjory's eyes snapped up to her husband's face. He watched her steadily.

"If you don't want to go with them, we won't," he said.

"Gene, you said you trust him, didn't you?" she asked.

"Yes. I do."

"That's good enough for me," she told him. "Let's go."

"I love you Marjy," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her close for a moment.

"I love you too, babe," she answered, leaning into his strength for a moment.

"We should go. I don't want to keep him waiting," said Gene. "He seems anxious to get going."

"How are they going to get Sierra back?"

"I don't know," said Gene, shaking his head. "It seems this Foot clan has it in for Leonardo and his family. This isn't the first time they've had to retrieve someone who's been kidnapped." He shook his head. "Marj, I… I have to tell you. When I was a PD, I heard of this clan. People they took… they don't come back."

Marjory's breath seemed to be caught in a vice in her chest. She looked up at Gene.

_Oh, Sierra. No._

He met her eyes steadily. "Leonardo and the others would appear to be her best hope," he said quietly. "He told me they've conducted successful rescue missions in the past."

"You know Sierra has a strong faith, Gene."

"I know."

The made their way down to the large armored van waiting in the alley. Marjory's eyes widened when she took in the truck.

_It looks like a military vehicle,_ she thought. _Gene wasn't kidding when he said they're warriors._

She jumped back as the side of the van opened and lowered, but followed Gene willingly inside.

"Marjory, this is Hamato Leonardo," said Gene. Marjory tried not to stare as a… yes, he was a turtle… stood up next to the driver's seat and gave her a brief but very courtly bow. She felt a bit light-headed and forced herself to draw a deep, slow breath.

"It is an honor to meet you Mrs. Spencer," the creature intoned solemnly.

_He sounds so young!_ thought Marjory. _God, have you sent us a child to save Sierra? And yet David was not yet twenty when he was chosen to be King._

"Hello, Leonardo," she responded, giving him a warm smile. "My husband tells me we owe you and your family our lives."

Dark, intelligent eyes met hers steadily from behind a blue mask.

"It is our duty to protect this city and those who live in it," he said. "Your husband helped my brother when he was injured. We are also in your debt."

A small smile played on his features, belying his formal speech and manners. He sat down in the driver's seat once more. Gene motioned Marjory into a passenger seat and she clicked her lap belt into place.

The turtle drove cautiously, smoothly through the streets. Soon he came to what looked like an abandoned warehouse. He drove inside, parking the vehicle.

"We'll use the elevator from here," he explained. "It takes us right down to the Lair. You'll be safe there, while my brothers and I go after Miss Jonstone."

"I'm going with you," said Gene with a determined look.

Leo shook his head. "No. You'd only slow us down."

"Leonardo…"

"Gene." Marjory put her hand on her husband's arm. "He's right. You told me yourself how they fought those ninjas at the church."

The pastor shook his head. "I've got to do _something,_" he said. "I can't stand the thought of Sierra in the hands of those… those _monsters._"

"The best thing you can do is stay safe," said Leo. "Don't worry. We'll get her out."

"Leonardo," Gene touched the turtle's arm. Dark eyes snapped to his face. "We don't expect you to risk your lives to save Sierra. I know she would agree with me."

"We don't do it because anyone expects us to," said Leo quietly. "We do it because it's the right thing to do."

He picked up Marjory's bags, and headed to a strange stone elevator. Gene glanced at his wife. She nodded. The couple joined hands, and followed Leonardo.

In a few moments, the doors slid open and they were led into the most amazing room either of them had ever seen. It had high, rounded ceilings. A balcony ran along one wall, with doors to what must've been more rooms. To the right was a large open area with ramps and other equipment.

_It looks like a skate-park_, thought Marjory, amazed.

To the left was another large room with a battered couch and a wall of televisions. Further in were other doors. Marjory could smell something savory cooking, and realized there was a kitchen in the strange underground home.

Movement from the couch made her turn to look. A young woman stood up and came toward them with a wary smile.

"Leo. You're home. Good." She touched the turtle's arm in welcome.

"Hi, Ann. How's Raph doing?"

"He's sleeping now. The pain pills put him right out."

"Good. He'll heal faster if he gets some rest. Ann, this is Gene and Marjory Spencer. Gene stitched Raph's scalp."

"It's very nice to meet you. Thank you very much for helping him," said Ann. Tears stood in her eyes. "I don't know what would've happened if someone else… anyone else, had found him."

"It was my pleasure, I assure you," said Gene with a smile. "It has been an honor to meet them."

"Gene, this is Ann Peters. She's Raphael's…" Leonardo glanced at Ann, hesitating. She smiled.

"We're dating," she supplied.

Gene covered his shock. "I see," he said mildly, smiling.

Something relaxed in Ann's face and her return smile was warmer. "Please come in. Austin and Bev have put together a meal. I'll show you the guest room."

"Where are Mike and Don?" asked Leonardo.

"Mike's in his room I think, and Don's in the lab. He's searching the web for any updated schematics on the Tower."

"Good. We need the most current information we can get."

"When will you go?" asked Ann. She kept her voice light, but her face was tight with sudden tension.

"As soon as Donatello's ready. Don't worry, Ann."

"I can't help it, Leo," she replied quietly.

She glanced at the couple standing close together, their hands clasped. "Please, come in, make yourselves at home. The guest room is this way."

She led them across the room and behind the staircase, to another door. She opened it. Marjory was pleasantly surprised to find a queen-sized bed, already made up with clean sheets, and a small dresser and desk.

"It's not fancy," said Ann, a slight challenge in her tone.

"It's lovely," said Marjory with a smile. Gene crossed the room to examine a painting hanging on the wall.

"This is beautiful," he said.

"Mikey did that," said Ann, with a hint of pride. "He recently wrote and illustrated a children's book."

"Really?" Gene turned to face the woman. "That's amazing."

"They're all amazing," said Ann with a genuine smile. "Whenever you're ready, you can come out to the kitchen and meet the others, ok? The boys will be planning their mission, but Beverly, Austin, Splinter and I will stay here. Raphael, too, because of his injuries."

"How is Raphael?" asked Gene.

"Better," said Ann with a smile. "Donatello says your first aid may have helped save his leg."

"I'm glad to hear he'll be ok," said Gene.

Ann nodded. "Call if you need anything," she said.

"Thank you," said Marjory as Ann left.

She turned to her husband. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her in close. She felt his chest rumble against her cheek as he prayed quietly, asking once again for protection and safety, and success for their new friends.

***

"Don, what've you got?" asked Leonardo, striding into the lab.

Donatello spun in his chair. "I think we're ready to go, Leo," he said. "The schematics we have seem to match the latest intel on the 'net."

"Good."

"Leo…" Donatello hesitated. "Are you sure about this? I mean, there are only three of us. And we can't be certain the Foot has her…"

"I'm sure, Don." Leo turned away. "Let's get Mikey and move out. It'll be dark by the time we gather the supplies we need."

He felt Donatello's eyes on his back as he left the Lab. He didn't need to look at his brother to know he was staring at him, trying to puzzle out where the determined tone was coming from.

Leo wasn't sure he knew himself. All he knew was that it was his fault Sierra Jonstone had been taken and the knowledge burned in his chest.

_We're going to get her back_, he thought. _We're going to get her back and this time, the Foot Clan is going to pay. _


	13. Chapter 13 A Soul in Anguish

**A/N: Sorry Sierra.**

**I just wanted to take a moment to mention some of the amazing fics going on right now. DuckiePray's _Buried_ will keep you on the edge of your seat. Candelight's _Motherly Affection_ has brought me to tears on several occasions. raphfreak's _No Matter What _is nearing it's gut-wrenching conclusion. And FairDrea has several fics out there you shouldn't miss. Be sure to check the site, or you will miss out on some great reads.  
**

**Again, a thank you goes out to my amazing beta-reader for Leo's Angel, raphfreak, who is keeper of the cliffhangers. Also Melody Winters, 54 Viruses and Fair Drea, who have read bits for me. :) hugs gals. I couldn't do this without you.  
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_Chapter 13 -A Soul in Anguish-_  
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_"_Be merciful to me, Lord, for I am faint; O Lord, heal me, for my bones are in agony. My soul is in anguish How long, O Lord, how long?_"  
-David: Psalms 6: 2, 3

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"Agent Bishop?"

"Yes?"

"We found the clinic, Sir."

"And?"

"There are four possibles, Sir."

"Tell me."

"All Jane Does. One is…" the man consulted a clip board. "Seventeen."

"No," said Bishop sharply. "Too young. We estimate the turtles are between twenty five and thirty years of age."

"Yes, Sir." The man looked unconvinced. "The second woman is twenty-five…"

"Height and weight?"

"Five seven. Two hundred pounds."

Bishop shook his head, scowling.

The man was sweating now. He cleared his throat, fidgeting with his papers.

"The third umm… candidate is… five foot four inches tall. One hundred thirty-five pounds. She's… twenty-six, Sir."

"Do we have a photograph?"

"No, Sir, but we have some video," said the man.

Bishop looked up sharply. "The clinic has surveillance?"

"No Sir. The gas station across the street."

"Put it on screen, soldier."

"Yes, Sir."

The agent moved nervously to press a few buttons on a pedestal console to one side of the room. Double doors slid silently open on the wall, and a screen moved forward with smooth hydraulic motion. It flickered to life, showing a rather grainy video of cars coming and going around gas pumps.

The agent pushed a few more buttons, and the picture adjusted, zooming in and clearing on a small building in the background. Bishop scowled, watching a seemingly endless parade of people enter and leave the clinic.

The agent tapped a few buttons, and an image appeared, still on the screen.

"Zoom in."

Bishop studied the image for a long moment.

"There are two women in this image."

"Yes. Apparently this Jane Doe came with a friend."

The tall man scowled behind his sunglasses. "Which one?"

"I… I don't know, Sir," confessed the nervous agent.

"Very well." Bishop walked to the screen, leaning close. "Run these images through the database. Find her."

"Yes, Sir."

***

Sierra bit her bottom lip, and tasted blood. The whimpers rolled forth from her now. She didn't bother trying to hold them back. The world was spinning around her, black and red and burning with pain. Her left eye was swollen closed. Her arm was mercifully almost numb from a stunning blow just above her elbow. It was no comfort, because she knew it was severely broken.

_Slap._

"You will tell us where to find the creatures."

He wasn't even waiting for her to answer anymore. The black-clad creature tormenting her seemed to be enjoying her pain, rather than actually seeking an answer to his endless questions.

"Where are they?"

_Slap._

"…D…don't… know." Sierra managed.

At first she'd resisted out of simple stubbornness. Whatever these people wanted with Raphael and his brothers, Sierra knew it couldn't be good. She was furiously angry at being kidnapped from her own home and thought she would deny them the information just out of pure spite.

She'd severely underestimated their determination and ruthlessness.

A punch to the gut had her writhing, trying to draw in air, but her burning lungs and aching ribs only allowed her shallow, gasping breaths.

_Abba, let me die… take me home. I can't tell them what they want… even if I could… Lord help me. Get me out of this… somehow._

Footsteps, moving away. The ninja was pacing across the room away from her. He did this every so often, pausing for a few minutes between beating her, giving her a moment's respite.

_He's building anticipation,_ she thought bitterly. _Trying to break me faster._

She heard a door open. She shuddered, trying to lift her head, to see what else was coming, so she could prepare herself. The door was just out of her line of sight, but she heard footsteps pad into the room.

"Fool!" A voice hissed, sounding furious. "If she dies she will tell us nothing!"

"She will tell us nothing anyway," retorted her tormentor. "She does not know where they are."

"Do you wish to explain to Karai why you beat her to death before she could reveal anything useful?"

"Silence! I know how to do my job."

"You dare speak to me this way! You forget yourself, Aiko."

"I forget _nothing_. I will not fail Karai! I brought the woman in."

"And now you seem determined to take her out, before our Mistress has the information she requires!"

"Very well. If you are so concerned for her well being, by all means, take her to the infirmary. Heal her. And when you are finished with her, return her to me. _I,_ and I alone, will extract whatever information she has."

Footsteps padded across the room, muffled on the tile. The door slid open, and slammed closed.

Sierra heard a heavy sigh. A hand touched her shoulder, making her flinch violently.

"Come. Get up," said a gruff voice, grasping her arms.

White-hot pain shot through her body as she was hauled unceremoniously to her feet.

_Broken ribs,_ she thought, taking stock. _Arm, too. My entire left side must be black by now. I think I might have some broken bones in my face. And my ankle. It's going to be a while before I can walk._

She staggered, swaying dangerously, when the hands let go of her arms.

"Can't… stand," she managed.

"Why?" The voice was sharp.

"Left… ankle. Broken," she managed.

The black-clad ninja swore vividly, but wrapped his arm around her waist, supporting her. He dragged her toward the door none too gently.

"Where…?" A coughing fit made her wish she hadn't bothered trying to speak.

"I'm taking you to the infirmary," he told her coldly.

Sierra shivered. She couldn't help it. Wherever this man was taking her, his callous treatment didn't bode well.

"You could save yourself this pain," he said, still in the cold tone. "Just tell him what he wants to know."

"I… can't."

"Why? What do the creatures mean to you?"

"Nothing."

"Then why withhold the information?"

"I… don't have… it."

"You're not lying, are you?" The man paused. With his free hand, he reached up, peeling off the mask. He peered into Sierra's face with a piercing blue-eyed gaze. "You really don't know where they are?"

"No."

He shook his head. For an instant she saw a flash of what looked like regret.

"I would not trade places with you," he said slowly. He pulled the mask down, covering his face once again.

Sierra shuddered as he dragged her forward, forcing her through another door. The scent of disinfectant assaulted her nose, burning.

"What is it?" A woman in a white coat looked up as they entered. Her ebony hair was long and sleek and her eyes were cold.

"The prisoner is injured. She needs medical attention. Karai will not be pleased if she dies too quickly," said the ninja sharply.

"Very well," The woman gestured impatiently. "Put her on the table."

Sierra found herself lifted and laid out on an exam table. The padding below her was thin, hardly enough to camouflage the solid surface, but just being allowed to lie down seemed like a great luxury. Hands tugged at her shirt from behind, pulling it away. She squirmed.

"Hey!"

Her protest was ignored. The woman began probing her injuries. Sierra held herself tense, refusing to allow more whimpers of pain to be drawn forth.

"The arm is fractured." The woman ignored Sierra as if she were no more than an engine or appliance, come in for repair.

The other ninja shook his head. "It doesn't matter. The injury is not life-threatening. The ribs must be stabilized though, or a lung could be punctured."

"What about her ankle?"

"Not life-threatening. Leave it."

"Fractured cheek bone?"

"Leave it." The voice sharpened.

"What if she has a skull fracture?" The woman's tone was emotionless, as if she were discussing the weather.

"In a day or so, it won't matter."

"All right. Let's get her wrapped."

Cold hands touched her sides, forcing her into a sitting position. Rough cloth was wrapped around her, tightening around her sides, constricting her lungs further, before her shirt was replaced around her shoulders, her arm jerked callously through the sleeve, causing her to cry out.

"That should do it," said the doctor. "Return her to the holding cell."

"Very well."

Sierra was lifted from the table once again. The ninja who'd brought her to the infirmary once again supported her as he dragged her back down the hall. Sierra's breathing became shorter and shallower as they returned to the room.

"No!" she began to struggle as he dragged her toward the door. "I'm not going back…"

He slapped her, hard, with his free hand. Stars exploded in Sierra's vision. Her head whirled and her vision darkened. She was dragged forward and abruptly dumped onto the cold, hard floor.

Without another word, the Foot soldier turned and left her to lie there. Sierra drew her knees up, drawing herself into as tight a ball as she was able, and shivered, tears sliding down her face.


	14. Chapter 14 A Promise

_Chapter 14 –Promise-  
~~~_

Donatello worked methodically, gathering tools into a bag that he slung over his shoulder. His thoughts were, as always, orderly, moving along like a well-oiled machine… but with a couple of glitches, unknowns factoring in and causing a slight tremor, like a loose part rattling.

_Three of us… Going in without Raph, this doesn't seem right,_ he thought. _And Leo's so grim. He's always wound a little tight during a rescue mission, but this time it's not one of us, it's a civilian. Usually he's able to hold onto detachment better than this. I wonder if it's Mike's news that's got him so tense. We all have a lot more to lose now. We'll have to protect Mike. Austin can't have him getting injured right now, she needs him. Too much stress isn't good for the baby._

_Shell… Mike with a baby._ Donatello smiled as he tucked another gadget into the bag. _What a thought. The Lair'll never be the same. I wonder if it will like playing with computers? Hmm… that load of parts I brought in last week had some nice, heavy wire. I bet I could build one of those things with the beads. If this kid is anything like Mike was when we were little, it'll need lots of mental stimulation to keep it out of mischief…_

His train of thought was halted by a figure appearing at the lab door.

"Don, what's taking so long? Leo's havin' a breakdown, man. We gotta get goin'." Mikey's cheeky grin made Don smile in response. A large white German Shepherd slipped past Mike, his tail wagging slowly.

"I'm coming, Bro. Just grabbing a few last-minute things, just in case." He patted the bag gingerly. "Hey, Bailey, there're no treats in there," he scolded, pulling the bag back as the big dog sniffed.

"Whatcha got?" asked Mike, his eyes lighting up like a kid at Christmas.

"Just a few percussion bombs, umm… a torch in case we have to go through any doors… my lock picks…" recited Donatello.

"You've got _bombs_? Awesome," said Michelangelo.

Don shook his head. "They're not toys, Mikey."

"I know," said Mike, still smiling. "But they're _so_ cool."

"Come on." Donatello sighed. "Let's get out of here."

"Yep. The faster we get going, the faster we get back," said Mike. The first hint of anxiety touched his blue eyes. "Hey, Donny?"

"Yeah, Mike?"

"I wanted to ask you something."

Bailey sat down next to the orange-clad turtle and looked up at him with something like anxiety, a low whine starting in his throat.

"Can it wait?"

"No."

Michelangelo's suddenly serious tone stopped Donatello. He looked up, meeting his brother's gaze.

"What is it, Mikey? You know you can ask me anything, Bro."

"Don, if somethin' should… you know, go wrong…"

"Mike, nothing's going to go wrong."

The dog lay down, wrapping his tail behind Michelangelo's ankles and watched Donatello.

"Well, if it does," Michelangelo continued, determination glinting in his eyes. "Don, I want you to look out for Austin."

"What? You mean like, if you…"

"Yeah. If I didn't come back. Look out for Austin for me, ok?"

Donatello swallowed the protests that fought to pour out of him. Of _course_ they would be fine, they were always fine, they always found a way.

"Mike, you know we never leave anyone behind."

"I know, Don," said Michelangelo quietly. "Promise me?"

Donatello stared into the blue eyes and saw the weight of responsibility fatherhood had lain on his younger brother.

"You got it Mike. On one condition."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"That you'd do the same for Bev."

Michelangelo's smile lightened his grim expression. "You got it, Don."

The purple-clad turtle clapped his brother on the shoulder, and the two of them left the lab, followed by the dog, his tail wagging in anticipation of a possible outing.

Leonardo was waiting in the lounge. His katana were strapped to his back. He looked tense, hyper-aware, his dark eyes snapping with impatience.

"You guys ready? Let's get a move on," he said.

"Leo," called Raph from the couch.

"What, Raph?"

"Give 'em shell fer me, Bro."

Leo cracked a smile for the first time in hours.

"We will, Raph," he said.

The three turtles headed for the elevator without a backward glance. Bailey watched them leave, turned, and laid down beside the couch with a deep sigh.

Raphael leaned over to scratch the big dog's ears.

"I know just how ya feel, Bailey."

***

"You aren't going to say goodbye to them?" Gene's surprised gaze swept the three women sitting at the kitchen table.

Ann answered. "They can't go in distracted," she said firmly. "When they're going out for something like this, something dangerous, we try not to cling." She glanced at Beverly, who sat dry-eyed next to her. Bev was staring into her tea-cup. Her expression was calm, but her fingers were wrapped so tightly around the mug her knuckles were white.

"They've trained their whole lives for this," said Ann quietly. "They know what they're doing."

"They are ninja," added Austin. Silent tears were sliding down her cheeks. "They stay in the shadows. They protect the innocent. They strike hard and fade away. It is their way."

"They really are warriors, aren't they?" asked Marjory. "Dear, I can't guarantee they'll come safely home again." She reached across the table and touched Bev's hand. "But I do believe the Good Lord looks after His children."

Beverly's eyes snapped up to the woman's face. There was a mixture of wariness and longing in her expression.

"My ma used to say stuff like that," she said softly. "She said God would bring our Daddy back…" She swallowed hard. "He never did come home."

Marjory shook her head. "I'm sorry to hear that," she said softly.

Beverly gave her a faint smile. "I guess there aren't any guarantees in this life, even with God."

"Oh, there are," said Marjory. "Just not always the ones we think we ought to have." She gave Bev's hand a squeeze. "I know it's a cold comfort, but we are incredibly grateful for what the boys are trying to do. Sierra is quite dear to us."

"It's who they are," said Beverly with a sad smile. "They fight crime. They protect the innocent. They try to do what's right. Use their powers for good and all that nonsense." She waved her hand and leaned back with a deep sigh. "Sometimes I hate it," she admitted.

Ann leaned over, taking Bev's hand in her own. "Me, too," she said softly.

"Would it help if we were to say a prayer for their safety?" asked Gene.

Beverly gave him a small smile. "It can't hurt," she said.

***

Leonardo motioned to the others. Michelangelo slipped up behind him, moving to the right of the door before them, and Donatello edged into the shadows to the left. A flurry of silent movement from his purple-banded brother, and the door swung open of its own accord, its locks and security alarms bypassed.

"Dude," whispered Mikey. "Eight seconds. New record."

He silently high-three'd Donatello.

Leo rolled his eyes in irritation.

"Guys, quit goofing off," he hissed. "We're almost in."

The three slipped through the door. Donatello closed it carefully behind them, propping it so that it looked secure. They edged down a darkened hall.

"I can't see a thing," whispered Mike.

"Leo, we need to go to the end of the hall and then right. Take the fourth door on the left, that should lead us to the cells." Don kept his voice so low it might've been a whisper of non-existent breeze in the hall.

"Got it." Leo moved forward slowly, grimly. They made it to the end of the hall, but around the right-hand corner, met their first batch of trouble.

A small group of Foot were moving toward them. When they spotted the turtles, they immediately attacked, drawing their weapons with shouts. Leonardo's katana sliced through a chain that flew at them, dropping the heavy weight on the end to the floor.

Donatello's bo flashed out, knocking a man senseless before he could bring his sword into play. Another soldier leaped over his fallen comrade, attacking with a han-bo. Don spun so that the short stick rattled off his shell.

"Try again," he quipped, bringing the end of his bo up to catch the ninja in the ribs. The other end came down with a dull _thunk_ on the back of the man's skull and he dropped to the floor like a sack. Don swung around to aid his brothers, but both were standing up, panting slightly.

"Come on," called Leo. "We've got to get her and get out of here before any more show up."

The three hurried off down the hall past a series of doors.

"Fourth on the left," called Don.

Leo nodded, coming to a halt outside the door in question. He edged the door open, peering down the hall for any sign of more enemies. He ducked back, motioning to his brothers who disappeared into the shadows on either side of the door. A small group of Foot came through the door, walking past the turtles, unsuspecting.

Donatello shook his head slightly, watching them pass so close he could've reached out and touched the ugly red insignia on their uniforms.

_Not too bright, are they?_

Leo motioned, and the three turtles slipped through the door, unnoticed, into the next corridor.

"Ok, split up and check the cells," he whispered. "We've got to find her fast, and get out of here."

They started down the hall. Don took the right side, and Mikey hurried ahead to check the next door. They'd found four empty cells when they were all frozen in their tracks by a high, thin, keening wail. The sound, filled with pain and anguish, went on for several seconds, chilling them all, before it was abruptly cut off.

Don and Mike exchanged glances before heading down the hall after their brother who was moving so fast toward the sound; Donatello wondered if his feet were even touching the floor.


	15. Chapter 15 Vengeance is Mine

**A/N: Finally... the rescue. And another twist. Leo... I am so sorry.  


* * *

**_Chapter 15 -Vengeance is Mine-_

* * *

"_Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God's wrath, for it is written: "It is mine to avenge: I will repay," says the Lord."_  
-Paul, Romans 12:19

* * *

Sierra's breathing came in short, shallow gasps. She leaned back against the wall, allowing it to support her weight because she had no other choice. She could not stand. Her ankle would buckle if she put any weight on it. Her ribs and arm were burning, but the pain was apart, detached, as if it belonged to someone else. She could hardly feel the shackles attached to her upper arms, pinning her to the wall and holding her in place.

"Where are they?" The black-masked ninja hissed, leaning closer. He'd pulled his mask back to reveal ebony eyes that burned into Sierra's. "Where are the _Turtles_?" He spat the last word as if it were bitter in his mouth.

"D…don't… know," whispered Sierra. She coughed weakly and tasted blood.

A blade was pressed to her shoulder. She could feel the tip piercing what was left of her shirt, digging into her skin.

_No… no, no, no…_ her mind whimpered.

"And if you knew, would you reveal their location?" asked the man, his voice dripping with ice.

"No." The word slipped forth before Sierra knew she was going to speak.

The blade was drawn back and before Sierra could draw a breath it drove into her side, piercing, burning, tearing. The air left her lungs in a high, thin parody of a scream. She was floating… awash in a sea of pain.

_Abba, take me home…_

An unearthly cry filled the room, echoing off the walls. Sierra didn't have the strength to lift her head. All she knew was pain, white hot and suffocating, stealing the air. Shouts… thuds and clanging rang out around her.

_I didn't think dying would be so noisy…_

She forced her head up, peering blearily. Green and brown flashed in her vision. Black… rushes of blue, purple, orange… something silver flashed and Sierra blinked. Her vision cleared a bit, as if she were looking through a foggy mist. She saw the man who'd been torturing her on and off for the last few days lying on the floor, his black mask ripped away, his face nearly as white as the floor. Standing over him, swords drawn, was a demon. His form was beautiful, with unearthly, sleekly muscled arms and a graceful stance, but his face was twisted, ugly with rage and blood-lust. She saw the man on the floor, his eyes stretched wide with terror, his hands beginning to lift in supplication…

The creature drove the blade down, through the man's throat. Blood gushed forth, spilling out over the floor in a crimson flood. From far away, Sierra heard someone cry out. Not the man, the light had already left his eyes. Another voice, high with fear…

"_Leo_!"

The demon seemed to shrink. His sword wavered and fell with a clang. When he turned his face toward Sierra, she had the impression of black, empty holes where his eyes should have been behind the blue band. The mist parted and he started toward her. She shuddered, pressing herself back with what was left of her strength.

"No!" she whimpered. "You _monster…_ don't…"

The creature blinked and for an instant, Sierra saw the depth of its loneliness staring at her out of those soulless eyes. Her terror melted into pity. A shout behind him, and he turned away, scooping up his blades. Sierra felt a sharp tug of regret.

Hands touched her arms and she flinched violently, closing her eyes in fear, but the touch was careful, not jerking and striking. She felt each brush of rough skin against her own as if it were on fire. She was painfully aware, every nerve ending on high alert.

"No! Leave… me alone…" she whispered without hope.

"You're safe now. We're going to get you out of here." A gentle, familiar voice.

_Gene?_

But no. The voice was not Gene's. It was softer, deeper.

The shackles fell away from her arms and she collapsed with a cry, anticipating the jarring pain of landing on the hard, cold floor again, but hands caught her, lifting her. She was cradled against a hard, smooth surface. She forced her eyes open and sucked in a painful gasp. Someone… something was carrying her. For an instant she feared the demon had taken her after all, but the mask this one wore was purple, not blue. She was leaning against his… shell?

_Plastron_, her mind supplied. She searched the green face, seeking the shred of humanity she'd seen for an instant in the other one. Seeing his silhouette, she realized with a shock of recognition that she'd seen him before, in another place.

_Lord, have you sent Raphael to bring me home?_ she thought hazily.

But this was not Raphael. His skin was lighter, olive green, and the eyes behind a purple mask were soft and brown, not burning amber. His gaze met her own, gentle and reassuring.

"It's ok," he said softly. "We're taking you someplace safe. You're going to be ok. Just stay with me, now…"

His voice blended with another in her memory… a young doctor in the hospital…

_Just stay with me, Sierra. Come on now, Hayley's gonna need her mother. You've got to try and stay with me…_

"Hayley?" she whispered.

"Don! Look out!"

Sierra gasped, whimpering as the arms tightened around her, crushing her against the turtle's plastron. She wanted to close her eyes, she wanted to sleep… she wanted the shouting and the motion to stop.

She was shifted to one side. Suddenly her legs were dangling while his arm pressed her against his plastron. She saw something brown and purple flash from the corner of her eye. A _thud_ vibrated through his body and there was a cry of pain.

Sierra closed her eyes, swallowing hard against the nausea that rose in her throat. She could feel something hot and sticky soaking the side of her clothes.

"Donny!"

She was spinning, falling. Her captor gasped, but his arm tightened again, cradling her against his plastron, protecting her, even as he regained his balance.

"Dude, are you ok?"

"Yeah." His voice rumbled in his chest, vibrating against her cheek. "He hit my shell. Come on, in here."

More motion, the sound of a door closing and the shouts and sounds of battle were blessedly muffled.

"Dude, where's Leo?" The voice was high with fear.

"Right here." A deeper voice. Cold, determined.

"Thank shell. Are you ok?"

"I'm fine."

"We've got to get her back to the Lair. She's bleeding out."

_Bleeding out… that's what they said about Hayley… her spleen was ruptured and she bled out… Oh Hayley… I'm so sorry._

A muscular arm came under her knees, and she was cradled more comfortably against him.

"We're going to get you out of here," the purple-banded turtle said softly. "Leo, what's the plan?"

"We can't hide out in this room forever. We need a distraction before the next wave comes."

"Mike, grab one of the percussion bombs from my bag."

"Dude, we can't set one off now… you'll blow us up!"

"Just do it, Mike."

"Ok, Don."

Sierra forced her eyes open. Her vision cleared somewhat. The orange-masked turtle looked up with startlingly blue eyes.

_He's no demon,_ she realized. _They're… Raphael's brothers. I met them… at the church. Michelangelo…I remember now. What are they doing here? How… why?_

She shifted, uncomfortable, finally realizing she was being carried.

"D… Don…a…tello," she managed to whisper. Her throat was on fire, feeling as if she'd swallowed a bucket of gravel.

"Yes, Miss Jonstone?" His voice was mellow, like melting caramel.

"Why?" she forced out. "Why are you… here?"

"We came to get you out. Don't worry. Pastor Gene and Mrs. Spencer are waiting," said Donatello softly. "Everything's going to be ok."

Sierra let her eyes close again. She felt Michelangelo fumble against his brother's shell, the vibrations sending painful currents shooting through her injured arm and side.

"Ok, Don, got it," said Mike.

"You're going to turn that small knob," instructed Donatello calmly. "No, Mike, not that one… yeah, the other one. Just set it to the three. When we go out, push the button and throw it down the hall. We'll have time to get into the next corridor before it goes off."

"Here, Donny, you do it," complained Michelangelo. "I can't figure this thing out."

"Leo, take her," said Don.

"No!" The third voice rose with alarm. Sierra opened her eyes. She gazed up at Donatello, unable to summon the strength to turn her head and look at the others.

"What's wrong, Leo?" Donatello's expression was one of concern.

"Nothing. Here, Mike, give it to me. I'll do it," said Leonardo.

_He doesn't want me._ The thought slid aimlessly through her consciousness, slipping into her heart, cutting deep as a knife. Tears came unbidden to her eyes, tracking down her cheeks.

"Ok, we've got to move."

Motion started again as the turtles rushed through the door. Sierra winced, hearing more shouts and running feet. Cold fear gripped her.

_If the turtles fall, the Foot will take me back,_ she thought, for the first time understanding the gravity of the situation. _I will die… I don't want them to die for me. Lord, protect them. Take me home if it is Your will, but keep them safe._

Behind them there was a dull explosion and a rumbling wave of percussion that made Sierra's ears hurt. She heard Michelangelo laugh with glee.

"Dude, that was _cool_," he crowed.

"It'll keep them busy for a while, anyway," said Donatello grimly.

"Come on," called Leonardo.

More shouts, clangs and thuds. Sierra hid her face against Donatello's shoulder, tiny gasping whimpers escaping her as he moved. There was a _thud_ and a _crash_. Suddenly the light was bright and the breeze was warm against her face.

"Mike, get the door. Don, let's move. Get her inside." Leonardo's voice again, directing, commanding.

Sierra was drifting, vaguely aware of a sudden silence. No more shouting, no more noise. Something vibrated around her… an engine… and the world lurched.

_We're in a… truck or van. Something,_ she thought vaguely.

"Mike, lay that seat out flat," said Donatello softly.

Soon Sierra was lowered down onto a soft surface. She squirmed, uncomfortable lying down. Every nerve in her body screamed against the vulnerability of lying prone, even though she knew she was no longer in the clutches of the mad-man.

"No…" she moaned, trying to curl herself, to sit up.

"Miss Jonstone, you've got to lie still," scolded Donatello gently. Hands touched her shoulders, pushing her back, pinning her down.

Panic flooded her, making her limbs shake.

"_No!_" she shrieked, struggling wildly.

"Mikey, help me!"

More hands, catching at her uninjured arm, a hand against her knee, holding her against the cushion.

She kicked out of pure instinct and her injured ankle crashed into something hard. The recipient of the blow yelped as Sierra sucked in a sharp gasp of pain. Tears slid down the sides of her face, wetting her hair.

"Miss Jonstone, we're not going to hurt you." Donatello's voice reached her through the haze of pain and fear. "Please stop struggling. You're going to aggravate your injuries."

"No… no… no more…" whimpered Sierra. Her memory made her feel other, rougher hands on her body, pushing her against the wall, holding her in place for the next blow…

"Miss Jonstone… Sierra!" The voice was sharp, but not with anger. He was pleading, calling to her.

Exhausted, the woman went limp, slow, heavy sobs shaking her.

The hand on her knee was removed and the weight pinning her shoulder lifted.

"You're going to be ok," said Donatello. "Mike, take this and press it against her side. We've got to slow that bleeding down."

Sierra gasped as she felt uncomfortable pressure against her burning side.

"Sorry, Dudette," said a soft voice. "Donny's right, you've gotta keep your blood inside."

"ETA, Leo?" Donatello asked.

"Less than five minutes," answered Leonardo. His voice sounded very tired. "I'll call the girls and have them prepare the med-lab. How bad is she, Don? Should I be detouring to the hospital?"

"_No!_"

Sierra shot up from the seat before Donatello could grab her. She threw herself forward, desperate to escape.

A muscular arm came around her chest, forcing her back down.

"Sierra! Lie still!" cried Donatello. "Mike, get the pressure back on that wound."

"No! I'm not going to a hospital!" the woman shrieked.

"Ok, ok, we'll take you someplace safe. No hospitals," soothed Don.

"_Shell_, Don, what was that?" snapped Leonardo. "I almost wrecked the van!"

"She's ok now, Leo. Let's just get back to the warehouse," said Donatello. His arm lay heavy across Sierra's chest, holding her down.

She squirmed, but he held her easily.

"No hospital," she whimpered. "No…"

"Ok, don't worry. We're not taking you to a hospital. We're taking you to Pastor Gene, ok? Don't be afraid. We're going to take care of you. You're safe now."

His words flowed over her, soothing, calming. Sierra's eyes slid closed and her ragged breathing slowed and evened out.

"They… they took Hayley," she whispered. "Killed her…"

"Who's Hayley?" The voice was far away, fading.

Sierra's eyes closed, and she knew nothing more.


	16. Chapter 16 Waiting

_Chapter 16 –Waiting-  
~~~_

Splinter sat on his meditation mat, his legs crossed in a lotus position. The candle sputtered and flickered, throwing odd shadows on the wall. The rat allowed the peace of the quiet Lair to settle on his shoulders like a mantle. Soon he would join the women and their guests, but first he needed time to center himself, so that he could face the humans without the turmoil of worry for his sons clouding his mind.

He drew a deep, calming breath, but still his heart was troubled. Something in the night wasn't right… something was nagging at him, the feeling that sometimes came to him. It was almost always a prelude to danger. Splinter disliked the feeling, but embraced it, recognizing it as an early warning system. It meant one of his sons would return desperately wounded… or not at all.

Finally abandoning his attempts at meditation, he rose. _Perhaps I should seek the company of my family_, he thought._ The girls will be needing reassurance._

He moved out of the room, making his way toward the kitchen. Splinter's whiskers twitched. The sound of quiet laughter sounded from the living room. His ears swiveled with curiosity.

Temporarily dissuaded from his goal of fetching a cup of tea, he turned toward the couch. Raphael was sitting up, his leg propped up on the low coffee table. As Splinter approached, his rich, deep laugh rang out.

The rat felt a smile tug at his lips, in spite of his worry. Rarely had he heard Raphael sounding so relaxed, so at ease, especially with his brothers out on a mission. Ann was snuggled on the couch next to the red-banded turtle. Austin sat on his other side. Beverly was perched on an armchair and the Pastor and his wife occupied the other chairs in the room. Splinter approached the little group.

"Oh!" Beverly spotted him first and stood up respectfully. "I'm sorry, Splinter, did we disturb you?" she asked, moving aside and motioning to indicate he should take the seat she'd abandoned.

"No, my daughter," he said with a chuckle. "Quite the opposite."

He turned to the human guests, who'd also risen at his appearance. He'd come out of his room only briefly upon their arrival, to welcome them to their home. Concerned that his appearance might frighten the strangers, he soon retreated, leaving Raphael and the girls to entertain them.

The man cleared his throat.

"Hello, Mr. Hamato," he said, sounding a bit uncertain. "Raphael here was just telling us some stories about the boy's adventures."

"Please, continue," said Splinter with a smile. "It will pass the time while we await his brothers' return." He took the chair Beverly offered him. She smiled and went to the kitchen, returning with a chair from the table. Raph shook his head as his sister in law settled into her seat.

"Nah," he said. "I'm outta stories. At least ones I can tell in fronta Sensei." He gave his father a smirk. Splinter just smiled.

"You would hide things from your father, Raphael?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Raphael chuckled. "Nah. Not really, Sensei."

The Pastor and his wife sank slowly back down. Splinter noticed that at his first approach, he could actually smell the woman's fear, but now the faint scent was fading. She was watching him, but not staring, seemingly fascinated rather than terrified.

"Perhaps you could tell us how you met Ann," suggested Marjory Spencer, smiling at Raphael expectantly.

Raph shifted on the couch, glancing at Ann with a smile.

"Ya might say we was da blind leadin' da blind," he joked.

Splinter shook his head at Raphael's light tone. His son's ordeal had been a difficult one. Nearly losing his sight seemed to have mellowed Raph, brought some of the composure Splinter had striven to train into the hot-headed turtle.

_It might be Miss Peters' influence,_ he admitted to himself. _She is impulsive and temperamental as my son, but she seems to understand him, to balance him. _

He listened quietly as Raphael briefly recounted his meeting in Central Park with Ann. Raph skimmed over his own capture, emphasizing the woman's courage and role in their escape from the mad-man's laboratory. Marjory Spencer's eyes got wider and wider as the story went on.

"And Donatello went into this clinic on his own?" she asked at one point.

"Yeah," said Raphael, smirking. "Brainiac decided ta play da hero. Good t'ing he did, too, or my bud Casey might not've made it outta there."

Marjory was shaking her head. "He took a great risk," she said.

"My sons risk their lives often, but not without reason," said Splinter quietly.

"You have raised fine children, Sir," said Gene. "They have done so much good for this city and so few people even know they exist." His fingers strayed to the thin scar that traced down one cheek. Splinter's sharp eyes didn't miss the gesture, but he didn't comment.

"We are ninja," said Splinter calmly.

"Stay hidden, strike hard, and fade into the shadows, right?" Marjory Spencer spoke up.

"Yes," said Splinter, surprised.

"Austin told us," said Marjory with a smile. "It's certainly an… unusual way of life."

"It's the only life my sons have ever known," said Splinter. "I wish for them to know more of the outside world, but even those who would be our allies might not understand us." He looked pointedly at Gene.

The man nodded, meeting the rat's gaze steadily. "It's true, Sir. Not everyone would understand your sons, or even take the time to get to know them."

"Ya said ya met Leo once," said Raphael, shifting on the couch.

"Yes," replied Gene quietly. "If you don't mind, I'd rather wait until I can tell him the story as well."

"No problem," said Raphael easily. "They should be back soon."

The familiar tension rippled through the red-masked turtle. Long association with his son allowed Splinter to notice the way his muscles tightened and the smile slid from his face. Despite his calm demeanor, Raph was worried about his brothers. Next to Raphael, Ann laid her hand on his arm. He glanced at her and relaxed slightly.

"Perhaps Beverly should begin preparing the laboratory," said Splinter calmly.

"Yes, Splinter," said Beverly automatically.

Splinter smiled. She'd picked up the boy's automatically respectful way of answering him, but not the honorary title of Master.

"I will assist you, daughter," he said, rising. "Excuse me, Mr. Spencer, Mrs. Spencer."

"Pastor," corrected Gene, rising as well. "How may we help?"

He smiled at Splinter's surprised look. "I received advanced first aid training in the army," he explained. I was a medic."

"Your assistance would be welcomed," said Splinter. He led the way to the laboratory, where Beverly was already laying out the supplies Donatello was likely to need.

Gene's eyes widened. "You have quite an array of equipment," he commented.

"My son, Donatello, has salvaged most of it," said Splinter calmly. "He rebuilt it, and created some pieces from parts he found."

"Amazing," breathed Gene.

"He is," said Beverly.

A sound at the door had them all turning to face a rather white-faced Austin. She was holding a shell-cell.

"Michelangelo just called. They're on their way," she said. "Under five minutes."

"Are there any injuries?" asked Beverly. Her voice was tight, strained with tension.

"The boys are fine," said Austin slowly. Her gaze flickered to Gene. "But the girl…"

"What is it, Austin?" asked Gene. "We need to know, to prepare."

"Donatello says she's got a severe laceration to her side," she recited. She closed her eyes as if feeling the wounds as she listed them. "Her ankle is almost certainly broken, and her arm. He thinks she has some cracked ribs, and a possible fracture to her cheekbone. We're going to need the x-ray and she may need a blood transfusion."

"Do you know her blood type?" Beverly asked Gene.

"Marjory might," said Gene. "I'll ask her."

He hurried from the lab.

"Austin," said Splinter gently. "Is there anything else you wish to tell us while our guest is absent?"

"No, Sensei," said Austin, letting out a slow breath. Something flickered in her hazel eyes and for the first time since he'd met her, Splinter was certain she wasn't telling him the entire truth.

"Her blood type is A negative," said Gene, hurrying back into the lab.

Beverly sucked in a sharp breath. "Oh, dear."

"Is this a problem?" asked Splinter.

"Well, as you know, Sir, certain blood types are not compatible with others," said Beverly slowly. "A negative is one type which is only compatible with its own type, or with O negative, which is a sort of universal donor, it's compatible with all the other types. As far as I know, none of us girls have type A negative or O."

"Marjory and I are both B negative," said Gene regretfully.

Beverly swore mildly. She met Splinter's reproving glance. "Sorry." She shook her head. "Austin, maybe you'd better call Don back and tell him to take her to a hospital instead. We might not have the resources to help her."

"No!" Gene's exclamation was so sharp, they all turned to look at him, startled. He looked to Splinter, pleading. "She can't go to a hospital. You don't understand. She suffered an extremely traumatic experience a few years ago. She gets upset at the mere idea of a doctor's office. A hospital would send her into hysterics."

"No," said Splinter calmly. "They will have to bring her here. She would not be safe in a hospital, with the Foot Clan seeking to kill her. I have confidence in Donatello's ability to assess the situation. If he has decided to bring her here, we will not counter his decision."

"Thank you, Sir," said Gene, sounding relieved.

"Leonardo has the O negative factor in his blood," said Beverly quietly. "With the mutation, we've never been sure if their blood was compatible with a human's, but Austin is having a baby, so obviously the physiology isn't so different on the cellular level…"

"Austin is… pregnant?" Gene's jaw dropped.

Splinter tensed, ready to leap to his daughter in law's defense should the man make a disparaging comment, but the man recovered his composure quickly, a genuine smile crossing his features. He turned to Austin.

"My goodness, I had no idea. Congratulations."

"Thank you," said the kunoichi quietly, her face warming with pleasure. "We just announced it a couple days ago."

_I see now why my son wished to speak further with this man. He has a disarming way of being pleasantly different from our expectations,_ thought Splinter.

A commotion from the main room had them all hustling to the door. The elevator doors slid open with a familiar _whoosh_. One, two, three turtles entered the room. Splinter breathed a deep sigh of relief, some of the tension lifting. They were home. They were safe, one more time.

His eyes flicked over his sons. Donatello was carrying a young woman. Splinter winced, noticing the hunched way her body trembled against his son's plastron and the extreme gentleness in the way Donatello held her.

_She is as severely injured as we feared,_ he thought. _I only hope we have made the right decision in bringing her here rather than taking her to a hospital. But if Mr… Pastor Spencer is correct, a medical facility could do her more harm than good._

His black eyes flicked past the girl, taking in the bruising along Donatello's jaw and the new scar on the edge of his shell. Splinter was relieved to see no obvious blood flow or major injuries. Similarly, Michelangelo sported a few new bruises and some minor gashes on one leg, but otherwise seemed unharmed. Leonardo was hanging back, behind the others. There was an unusual tiredness about the eldest turtle, a disturbance in his spirit Splinter could sense even before he approached his sons.

"Donatello, I believe Beverly has prepared your laboratory for the young woman," said Splinter. Don nodded and hurried across the Lair, disappearing into the lab with his burden.

"Leonardo, my son. You have done well," said Splinter, approaching him. The blue-banded turtle flinched away from his Master's outstretched hand.

"Leonardo? Is something wrong? Are you injured?" Splinter studied him, confused and deeply concerned.

"No, Sensei." Leonardo's voice was quiet, dull. He avoided his father's gaze.

"What has happened, my son?"

"I… I…" Leonardo's reply was cut off by his brother's voice calling urgently from the lab.

"Leo! We need you in here, right _now._"

"Coming, Don. Sorry, Master," mumbled Leo, brushing past his Sensei and hurrying into the lab.

Splinter stood for a moment, stunned.

_What could have happened to so deeply trouble his spirit?_ he wondered. _I fear Miss Jonstone is not the only one who was injured tonight._


	17. Chapter 17 Thy Rod and Thy Staff

**A/N: Amazing what a few painkillers can do for a girl's attitude.  
**

**A note about today's quote and title: A shepherd's rod and staff were important tools for guiding his sheep. The rod actually had a hooked end for retrieving sheep who'd fallen into a crevice or ditch. The title refers to Splinter's authority and guidance as a Dad, as well as the authority and discipline Christians, like Sierra, find in their faith.**

**Will Leo find comfort in his father's authority? We can only hope.**

**

* * *

**

_Even though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.  
-_David, Psalms 23:4 NIV

* * *

_Chapter 17 -Thy Rod and Thy Staff Comfort Me-  
~~~_

The bed was soft under Sierra's body. Warm, muscular fingers probed her shoulder and side. She felt the prick of a needle and flinched, crying out, but in a few moments blessed numbness flowed through her arm, dulling the buzzing pain.

"That bone will have to be set."

"Let's get an IV into her. We'll need it for the transfusion and to keep her on a morphine drip."

"We'll have to get her side stitched first, stop this bleeding."

"Ok, Don. You want another local?"

"Yes. Let's get her stabilized and the pain under control, then we can get started setting the bones."

A burning in her side, then blessed coolness flowed in, easing the tearing pain. She couldn't feel the hot, sticky flow any longer.

"Cut that wrapping away, will you, Bev? We'll need to get the wound cleaned."

"No problem."

Hands touched her, rolling her slightly toward one side. Sierra moaned softly, unable to hold the sound in.

"Take it easy." The melting-caramel voice again, soft, reassuring. "Your side will have to be cleaned and stitched, then we'll get your broken bones set, ok? We gave you local anesthesia for your injuries, they should kick in soon. You're going to be ok."

"How is she, Don?" A deeper voice, quiet, cool.

Sierra moved her head, opening her eyes to peer in the direction of the other voice. Another turtle stood nearby, his arms crossed over his plastron, watching the proceedings with a wary expression.

"L… Leo… nardo," managed Sierra, remembering the blue-banded turtle from the church.

"Hey, she recognizes you, Leo. That's a great sign," said Donatello quietly. He was moving next to Sierra's side, but whatever he was doing, she could no longer feel it.

"Great," said Leonardo. His voice was quiet, detached.

_He looks so tired,_ thought Sierra. _He was fighting. I remember… _She blinked. A… memory? of a turtle-demon, stabbing a katana through the throat of her tormentor… _Leonardo carries katanas,_ the thought slid through her brain. _But he is no demon. I must have been hallucinating._

Slowly, painfully, Sierra lifted her hand toward the turtle. She remembered Raphael's skin under her fingers, warm and slightly rough. She wondered if Leonardo's felt the same. His eye ridge quirked, and he moved slowly, hesitantly, to the bedside. She reached out, made bold by the painkillers, and grasped his hand in her own.

"You… came for me."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"We couldn't leave you there." His voice shook just a little.

"Thank you."

His fingers squeezed her hand very gently.

"She's lost a lot of blood." Donatello's voice. "Leo, we're going to need you to give her a transfusion. You're the only one whose blood type is compatible with hers."

The warm hand let go of Sierra's as if he'd been burnt. She shivered at the loss of contact, the chill settling on her once more.

"Don, what about the mutation?" His voice sounded strained, slightly panicked.

"We don't have a choice, Leo," said his soft-voiced brother quietly. "She's lost too much blood. She's going into shock."

"She won't want my blood…"

"Leo, that's ridiculous. We _don't have a choice_. She'll _die_ without a transfusion. You've done this before, when one of us was injured. This is no different. Now quit stalling and sit down."

Sierra swallowed hard. Her mouth and throat felt so dry, and the cold was making her shiver now. Leonardo sat in the chair, laying his arm on the bed without further protest. He didn't flinch as Beverly cleaned a spot on his arm with an alcohol pad and found a vein, inserting a needle deftly. It took a bit longer to find a vein on Sierra's arm amongst the bruises, but she finally managed to slide the needle in.

Sierra's breath hissed through her teeth. Leonardo reached automatically for her hand again and her fingers closed around his, clinging.

"Are you sure you're ok with this?" he asked softly, peering into Sierra's face. She looked into his dark eyes. Her breath caught in her throat.

_He's so beautiful,_ she thought.

"Ok?" she managed to whisper.

"With having my blood pumped into you. With sharing blood… with a monster." His voice dropped to a whisper and his hand tugged in hers, as if he'd pull away.

"You…" she whispered, her fingers tightening, "Are no… monster."

His eyes softened. Sierra watched, fascinated, as the blood traveled along a clear tube until it reached the junction leading into her own arm.

_His blood is inside me now…_ the thought floated through her mind. For some reason, the thought seemed to send warmth spreading through her body.

Suddenly she was very tired. Her eyes slid closed, but someone shook her shoulder gently.

"No falling asleep," said the woman. "You've got to stay awake a little bit longer."

"Tired…" complained Sierra, but the woman was relentless.

"I know, Sweetie, but you have to stay awake," she said. Her slightly bullying tone reminded Sierra of the nurses from the hospital and she shivered.

Leonardo's chuckle startled her.

"Better listen," he advised quietly. "She's a regular dragon."

"Hush, you." The woman came around the side of the bed, into Sierra's line of sight. She was tall and slender, with a shock of strawberry-blonde ringlets curling around her face. She smiled at Leonardo. Sierra managed not to flinch as the woman took her free arm into her hands.

"Don's going to roll you onto your back now. We'll need to get the oblique fracture of the radius set. The ulna's just cracked, I think." She looked up, over Sierra, addressing the comments to the turtle on the other side of the bed.

"Ok. I'll set up the stand."

A small rack was wheeled over with odd metal bits hanging from it. The woman lifted Sierra's hand and slipped her fingers gently into the rings. Her arm hung limp. She watched, interested, while Donatello gently manipulated the arm, pressing on it. She could feel his ministrations, but the painkiller was taking the edge off the worst sensations.

"There. I think that will do it." He frowned. "Of course, it's impossible to tell until we take an x-ray."

"It feels better," Sierra whispered.

Don shot her a startled look. "Good. Almost done, Sierra. We'll wrap your ankle, and your ribs, ok, then you can rest for a while."

"Ok."

She slowly nodded her head. The movement was painful. Her cheek felt puffy, swollen and it was hard to open her left eye.

"Let's get you sitting up," said Donatello. Strong, gentle hands came under Sierra's back, lifting her. She sat up slowly, the room spinning slightly.

"How are you doing, Leo?" asked Beverly.

"'m fine." Leonardo sat in the chair, gazing up at Sierra.

"About five more minutes, and we can unhook you, ok? You should get some rest. You guys got out of this without too many injuries for a change."

"Yeah."

Sierra saw something like pain flicker in the depths of the dark eyes that regarded her so solemnly.

"Leo? Are you sure you're ok? You're not… hiding any injuries, are you?" Beverly's tone was sharp.

"No. Bev, I'm fine. Really." Leonardo mumbled.

"Leave it, Bev." Donatello's voice was quiet, but firm. Sierra saw the woman's blue eyes snap up to the turtle who was still standing behind her, wrapping a long strip of linen around her, binding her aching chest once more. Beverly looked surprised and a little angry, but made no further comment.

Finally Donatello declared the job finished and she was allowed to lie back down. The needle was removed from Leonardo's arm. He stood, stretching. Sierra felt a chill as his fingers slipped out of hers.

"Are you going to talk to Splinter?" Donatello's voice was sharp. Leo's gaze snapped to his brother. Once again Sierra saw confusion, fear and… guilt? In his gaze.

"I… I will," said Leonardo with a sigh. "Right now I just want to sleep."

"Don't put it off, Bro," said Donatello. The purple-banded turtle moved around the bed. He leaned close to his brother's plastron. "Leo. You've got to talk to him."

"I _will_, Don."

Leonardo's voice was hard, angry. He turned and stalked out of the room. Sierra heard Donatello sigh.

"What's going on, Don?" The woman touched the turtle's arm in a familiar gesture.

He shook his head. "I'll…tell you later," he said softly, shaking his head. "Oh!" He turned, as if seeing Sierra for the first time. "Sierra, I'm sorry. With so much to do, I didn't introduce you properly. This is Beverly, my wife. Beverly, this is Sierra Jonstone."

"I wish I could say it's nice to meet you, Sierra," said Beverly with a smile. "I'm afraid these aren't the best of circumstances."

"Thank you." Sierra found breathing slightly easier now that her ribs were supported and the pain medications had fully kicked in. Her eyes slid closed. "For everything."

***

Leonardo stalked out into the main Lair, anger boiling in his chest.

_What is Don's problem? I'll talk to Splinter when I'm ready. I always talk to him about our missions, we discuss strategy, figure out what we could've done better… and what we did wrong._

Dark eyes staring up at him… terror written in every line of a thin, cruel face… blood flowing across the tile floor in a river, staining his katana, staining his honor…

_I've killed in battle before. Why does this bother me so much?_ he thought, giving himself a mental shake. _He was hurting her…_ The rage flamed in his chest again, warming him, driving out the chill threatening to creep in.

Leonardo made his way to his room, determined to clear his mind with meditation. He sat in the lotus position on his mat, closing his eyes and resting his hands lightly on his knees. He drew deep breaths, trying to rid his mind of the turmoil, but still the battle replayed over and over in his mind.

The knife flashed, still in her side, as Leo burst into the room. He rushed at the man, jerking him away… He spun and fell. In an instant, Leonardo was standing over him, the katana pointed at his throat.

_He was torturing her. He had no honor,_ Leonardo told himself firmly. _I was defending Sierra. He would've killed her in another moment._

_He was unarmed… he'd dropped the knife…_ an answering voice slid into his consciousness. It didn't shout. It whispered, insidious, condemning. _Was it an honorable death in battle? Or was it cold-blooded murder?_

Finally Leonardo could no longer bear the voices battling in his mind. He leapt to his feet and stalked out of his room and across the Lair, thinking to head to the dojo, to find release in physical activity and clear his mind of this chatter. Thumps and the _clack_ of wood told him it was already occupied. Leo paused in the door.

Donatello and Michelangelo circled one another, their weapons drawn. Mike was grinning, his nunchucks spinning like fans. Don circled with a familiar calm, collected expression. The bo flashed out, and Mikey flipped elaborately to avoid the strike, showing off.

Leo heard a gasp. He turned, and spotted the Pastor and his wife. They were seated on the low bench along one wall. Austin stood nearby, her eyes shining with pride as she watched her husband take on his brother. Leo noticed her hand resting on her stomach, where the precious new life had not yet begun to create a bulge.

_She's so happy, so proud,_ he thought. _Mike's a lucky guy. _

Sierra's green eyes swam through his memory. The way she'd looked at him in the church, not fearful or disgusted, just… friendly. Curious. Another memory… Sierra, chained to a wall, shrinking from his touch, fear and despair clouding her gaze, sliced through his heart. _Monster…_ He turned away from the dojo with a growl and stalked toward the elevator doors.

_Maybe some fresh air… to clear my head,_ he thought.

"Leonardo!"

Splinter's voice stopped him just shy of the elevator doors.

"Yes, Master?" Leo turned slowly, drawing in a deep breath and letting it out slowly as he did.

"Where are you going, my son?" There was no accusation in the old rat's voice, only curiosity and concern.

"Out."

Leo felt an uncharacteristic urge to turn and leave, but years of training and ingrained habit were not easily overcome. He could not simply walk out on his father.

"I would like to speak with you about tonight's events, Leonardo."

Leo felt panic spike in his chest.

_He knows._

The urge to bolt was strong. He stood, undecided, for several long heartbeats, torn. Mike and Don spilled out of the dojo, laughing. The moment was shattered. Leonardo breathed a sigh of defeat and turned to face his father.

"_Hai,_ Sensei."

Head bowed, feeling as if he were being led to his own execution, he followed Splinter to his room.


	18. Chapter 18 Confession

**A/N: Short chap I know, but... there really wasn't anything else to say.**

* * *

_Chapter 18 -Confession-  
~~~_

"Any luck?" An EPO agent walked into the room where his colleague was staring at the images flickering past on a computer screen.

"Not yet."

"Have you searched all the databases?" He leaned on the desk, sipping coffee from a foam cup.

"Image matching takes forever." The agent watching the computer scowled. "I hate this part of the job. I'd rather be out there, you know? Desk work is a pain."

"You'd rather be in the field? You know what you're looking for, don't you? A girl connected with those turtles Bishop's so obsessed with. Did you see the last team that went out after them?"

"I saw what was left of them, coming back in," replied the agent coolly. "My friend was on that mission. He… didn't come back."

"Sorry." The man took another sip of his coffee. "They're killers."

"Well, if we can find this girl, at least we can keep them from spawning another generation."

"Freaky, isn't it, to think of one of them… with a human girl." The man snorted into his coffee.

The man watching the computer didn't so much as crack a smile. "Got her."

***

Leo watched the slow tendrils of smoke rising from the incense on his Master's low table. His eyes were fastened on the smoke… at that moment, he felt he could direct his gaze toward the sun itself, anywhere but into the piercing black eyes of his father.

"Leonardo. Why are you troubled, my son?"

Though he'd been expecting the question, hot tears prickled Leo's eyes.

_How can I tell him? How can I tell him I've failed? Failed as a ninja. Dishonored his training, his teaching… failed as his son?_

"Do you feel responsible for the young woman's injuries?" Splinter probed when his son didn't answer right away.

"Yes, Sensei," muttered Leo, hoping that would satisfy his father.

"There is more."

It wasn't a question.

"Yes, Sensei." Leo's voice came out in a strangled whisper. A tear escaped his efforts to hold them back and tracked down his cheek, burning, shameful.

"Leonardo." His father's gravely voice was full of understanding and concern.

Almost against his will, Leo's gaze rose to meet his father's eyes. Splinter held his look steadily. The tears slid faster now, chasing one another down his cheeks, dripping onto his hands, which rested lightly on his knees. Leonardo didn't try to wipe them away.

A noise behind him, but Leo didn't turn. He couldn't break the contact with his father… his lifeline.

"Splinter? It wasn't Leo's fault. The guy was hurting her and Leo was just protecting the girl and if we'd been just a little quicker it wouldn't of happened and we'll all train harder so you don't have to punish him, ok?" Mikey's voice tumbled over itself like a stream over rocks, rushing in its hurry to travel forward.

"Michelangelo." Splinter's quiet reprimand cut off the flow.

Leo's eyes dropped back to the mats. He drew in a deep breath. The tears really cut loose then. Once again his brother had come to his aid. Only this time, there was nothing he could do to protect him… this was no rescue from an enemy. This time the monster was within Leonardo himself and there was no escape, no rescue in the world that could save him.

"I will speak with you in a moment, Michelangelo," said Splinter firmly. "For now, I must discuss this with your brother. Please, leave us."

"But Sensei!"

"Michel_angelo_!"

Leo flinched. He hadn't heard that tone from their father since they were teenagers. He could almost hear Mike's shoulders slump.

"Ok, Father," he said quietly. "But remember, Leo… Leo's good."

Quiet footsteps shuffled out of the room.

"Leonardo."

Leo didn't look up this time. He couldn't.

"Your brother is upset. Can you tell me what brought on his outburst?" Splinter's voice was gentle, but firm.

"I… I killed a man, Father."

The rat waited.

"What Michelangelo said was true." Leonardo drew in a deep breath. "When… when we found Sierra, he was there… he was… hurting her. He'd… he'd just stabbed her."

Still Splinter remained silent.

Leo sighed. "I… I pulled him back. Away from her. She… she was bleeding, Sensei. She was hurt… in so much pain… He dropped the knife. He had no weapon, but I was angry. Enraged. I threw him down. I… I killed him."

"Leonardo…"

A three-fingered hand came up, palm flat toward his Master, forestalling whatever comment he would've made. "He was… unarmed, Master. I… I killed him without mercy."

The rat's hissing gasp was all the confirmation Leonardo needed of his guilt. Slowly, painfully, without looking up, he unfastened the leather strap that held his katanas. He drew the weapons around his shell to his front and laid them on the mat before his father.

"I… I acted dishonorably, Father. I am shamed. I am no longer worthy to lead our clan. I am no longer worthy to be a ninja. I… I am no longer worthy to… to be called… your son."

Leonardo would've run if he could've gained his feet, but the weight that settled on his shoulders in that moment pushed him forward, pressing him down against the mats.

He rested his forehead against the cool bamboo, smelling the dusty, damp scent of the concrete underneath and feeling as though the weight of earth was over him… as if he'd been buried alive. He huddled, miserable and shivering, and waited for Splinter's quiet condemnation, for dismissal.

_Will I be allowed to stay in the Lair? Can I still live with my family, see them every day, knowing… _knowing_ that I am a murderer? _

"Leonardo."

Leo flinched as if Splinter'd brandished a whip at him, though the rat's voice was calm.

"Tonight's events are… disturbing. I will need time…" Splinter drew a slow, deep breath. "I will need time to meditate on this. We will speak again. I will speak with your brothers as well. Michelangelo, in particular, seems upset."

"They both are, Sensei," Leo admitted. Donatello's soft brown eyes burned with shock and anger in his memory.

"Understandably so, my son." The reprimand was gentle, but definitely there.

"In the meantime, I wish for you to consider your actions tonight. I will ask you two questions, and I wish you to meditate upon them. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sensei."

"The first is, what caused you to take this action? And the second is, will it happen again? Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sensei."

"Leonardo."

Slowly, reluctantly, the turtle rocked back on his knees. He lifted his eyes to meet his father's gaze. Splinter's fur was dark, stained wet with tears.

"My son. I _love you._ That has not changed."

Instead of feeling reassured, Leonardo felt shame slide deep into his chest, taking root somewhere below his heart.

Splinter reached over and gripped his arm. Leo flinched, but allowed the contact.

"It has been a long night," said Splinter gently. "Go. Rest. We will speak again in the morning."

"_Hai,_ Sensei."

Slowly, painfully, Leo got to his feet. He left his father's room without another word.


	19. Chapter 19 Dinner Party

**A/N: After such an emotional chapter, I think we could use a little lighter mood... at least until the end. So yeah, this is a cliffy warning.  


* * *

**_Chapter 19 –Dinner Party-  
~~~_

April O'Neil answered her shell-cell on the third ring, smiling when she saw the number come up on caller ID.

"Yes, Mike, what is it?"

"Actually it's Austin, April."

April grinned. "It's great to hear from you, Austin. What's up?"

"Well, this is the first chance we've had to call you." April could see the younger woman's smile on the tiny screen. "Can you come down, April? Casey, too. How about tonight? Can you come for supper?"

"I'll have to check with Casey, but I'm sure we could, Austin. That would be great. Is there a special occasion?"

"Well, yes, Mikey and I have a surprise."

Austin was grinning so widely, April had to smile.

"A Mikey surprise? Do I dare come?" April teased.

"You've _got _to." Austin grinned. "He'll behave, I promise."

"Ok," said April, grinning. "We can't wait."

"Us either. See you later, April."

April snapped her phone closed. She quickly dialed Casey, waking the grumbling vigilante from a sound nap. Once he was awake enough to be coherent, he readily agreed to visit the Lair. It'd been a week since they'd seen the boys, after all, and Casey was missing his head-bashing partner. Raph wouldn't be up to slipping out with Casey for a while yet, but the opportunity to trade insults with his friend was a temptation Casey couldn't pass up.

***

"Michelangelo, is the meatloaf ready?" Austin glanced over from where she was dicing carrots.

"Almost, babe." Mikey closed the oven and sauntered over. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his hands lightly on her stomach. "Hey," he whispered into her hair.

"Hey, yourself."

"I can do this. Why don't you go sit down?"

"Mike, I'm pregnant, not dying." Austin grinned. "It's ok. Honest."

"But I don't want you on your feet all the time," he said softly, leaning over to nuzzle the side of her neck.

Austin set the knife down and turned around, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and leaning into his plastron.

"Mike, even Don doesn't fuss as much as you do. Honey, I'm _fine._ The baby is fine. I promise. If I need to go sit down, I will, ok?"

"Ok." he sighed. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

Nothing got diced or chopped or prepared for the next ten minutes or so, until Austin broke off the kiss. She reached up and touched his face.

"Mike?"

"What?"

"You'd better check the meatloaf," she whispered.

Mikey's eyes got wide. "Oh, man!"

Austin giggled as he hurried over to check on the main course.

"It's ok!" he announced.

She went calmly back to chopping the carrots while Michelangelo pulled the large pan of meatloaf out of the oven and set it on a trivet.

"Do you think we'll have enough?" she asked, glancing at the enormous entrée with a raised eyebrow.

"I sure hope so," said Mike fervently. "I mean, we're feedin' Raph and Casey… Oh, man. Maybe I should've made more potatoes…"

"Mike, you made nearly twenty pounds!"

"Do ya think it'll be enough?" Wide blue eyes met Austin's gaze, and she burst out laughing.

"Mike, between the meatloaf, the potatoes, the green beans, salad and cake, yes, I think it will be enough. You've made enough food for twenty people!"

"Well… we've got you and me, Bev and Don, Ann, Raph, Leo, Splinter, April, Casey, Pastor Gene and Marjory, LH is coming, right? And Sierra if she's up to eating…" Mikey counted on his fingers. "That's… thirteen, right? Oh man…"

Austin saw the panic of superstition start to cross Mike's face. "And a half," she said quickly with a grin.

Mike came over and cupped his hand against her belly. "And the little guy," he whispered softly. "So… thirteen and a half, yeah."

Austin giggled. "What makes you think it's a little 'guy'?" she asked. "Maybe it'll be a girl."

Michelangelo's eyes sparkled. "A _girl_? Oh, wow."

"Would you mind?" Austin leaned against his arm, keeping a steady rhythm as she chopped the last of the carrots.

"Mind? Of course not! I'd love a girl. Austin?"

"Hmmm?"

"Have… have you… thought about names yet?"

Austin shook her head. Sudden tears stung her eyes. "I… I wasn't sure we should. Not yet. Not until… not until we're sure…."

"Austin."

"Yes, Mike?"

He gently took the knife out of her fingers and laid it on the cutting board, then took her shoulders and turned her so she had to face him. He gazed into her eyes.

"We're not going to lose this baby. It's going to be ok."

"I… I know." The tears slid down her cheeks and she ducked her head to hide them.

Mike's arms wrapped around her waist, drawing her close.

"If it's a girl, I wanna name it Skylar," he whispered against her hair. "Skylar Raine."

"That's beautiful, Mike. But what if it's a boy?"

"You can name him," said Michelangelo. "What do you want to call him?"

Austin trembled against him. "I… I'm not ready," she whispered.

"Austin…"

"Mike, please. Give me some time, ok?"

"Ok." he gave her a squeeze. "It's gonna be great. You'll make a great Mom."

"And you… you'll be the best dad," she whispered against his plastron.

"Mike! Austin! April an' Case 're here!" called Raph from the other room.

Michelangelo let go of his wife with a squawk.

"Oh, no! I didn't finish frosting the cake!" he cried, a slightly panicked look sweeping over his face. "And we still have to mash the potatoes and fix the salad…"

"Mike, relax." Austin laughed, catching him around the shell and drawing him close to her for another hug. "April and Casey are _family_. They'll be thrilled for us. Don't _worry._"

His fretting calmed as he gazed into her eyes. "You're right. I love you."

"I love you, too."

"There you two are." April swept into the kitchen. She set a vase on the table filled with fragrant yellow chrysanthemums before crossing the room to hug Austin, then Michelangelo. "Wow! That smells great. You guys must've been working on this all day!"

"It's nothin' Ape. Just a couple tv dinners, you know," teased Michelangelo.

"Some tv dinner," said April, grinning. "You two have really outdone yourselves. Now, what can I do to help?"

"You can get my wife to go and sit down," said Mike, taking Austin by the arm and steering her firmly toward April. "She's been working too hard."

"Mikey!" Austin blushed.

"Go. Sit and visit. I'll finish up in here," insisted Michelangelo.

"Come on, Austin," said April with a smile. "He's offering to do the work. Take advantage while you can."

"Oh, all right." Austin blew out an exasperated sigh. "It's nearly ready anyway. All he has to do is put the carrots into the salad and frost the cake…" She trailed off, still looking over her shoulder as April led her out of the kitchen.

***

"So, Raph, how long 'fore ya can get outta dat t'ing?" asked Casey, poking his buddy's good leg.

Raphael grimaced. "Don says it's gonna be another couple o' weeks," he grumbled. "I'm gonna go outta my mind 'fore den."

"Ah, dat sucks, Dude," said Casey sympathetically. "Ape an' me were t'inkin, wit' all dis activity goin' on wit' da Foot an' all, mebbe you guys'd wanna come up ta da farmhouse fer a while. Like a vacation, ya know? Get outta da city, an' it'd be safe fer da Pastor an' da chick ya saved."

Her name's Sierra," growled Raphael with a slightly embarrassed glance at Gene who was sitting in the armchair. "I dunno if Donny'll wanna move 'er yet."

Gene just grinned good-naturedly. "A farmhouse?" he asked, his eyebrows rising.

"Yeah, see Casey an' April have dis farm… it belonged ta Ape's Grandma," explained Raph.

"It ain't much, but it's isolated, an' there's lotsa room," said Casey. "We were thinkin', ya know, wit' all dis, da guys could use a vacation."

"Sounds good ta me, Case, but ya gotta get Fearless an' Splinter to agree," said Raphael.

"Greetings, my friends." A new voice growled low, making Raph turn. Gene got to his feet, his face going pale. He swallowed hard.

"Hey, LH, what's up?" called Raph over the back of the couch. He glanced at Gene.

"That's Don's friend, Leatherhead," he told the man quietly.

"I… I know," murmured Gene. His hands were shaking slightly. "Donatello… warned me."

Raph grinned. "He's impressive all right," he said. "But he's a great guy, and as smart as Donny. Jus' remember, he don't like bein' called a' animal, an' you'll be fine."

Gene managed a weak smile. "I'll remember," he said faintly.

"Hey, is yer wife gonna be ok? I mean, meetin' LH fer da first time…" Casey was frowning.

"She knows to expect him," said Gene. "But I think I'll go and get her myself now. I'd hate for her to come out and meet him… unaware."

"Good idea," said Raph with a slight smirk.

Gene disappeared toward the guest room he and Marjory'd been sharing.

"Greetings, Raphael. Has my presence made your human friend uncomfortable? Perhaps this is not a good time for me to visit," said Leatherhead quietly, coming around the couch to face Raph.

"Nah, he's jus' goin' ta get his wife," said Raphael with a grin. "They'll be fine, LH. 'Sides, you're family. You need ta be here."

"We was jus' talkin' about takin' da guys ta da farmhouse fer a couple o' weeks," interjected Casey.

"Ah, a vacation. A splendid idea," said Leatherhead with his crocodilian smile. "Donatello always seems to return refreshed from your retreats into the country."

"Personally I think it'd be good fer Leo. He's been wound a little tight lately," Raph remarked.

"Dude, Leo's _always_ wound a little tight," said Casey. "He cares about ya, you know?"

"Yeah, yeah," said Raphael, rolling his eyes.

Leatherhead nodded. "I agree," he said. "Even Donatello seemed a bit tense when I spoke with him. Perhaps a respite from your crime-fighting responsibilities will do you all good."

"Dinner's ready!" called Michelangelo from the kitchen. "Come an' get it!"

"Nice, Mikey. Real classy," grouched Raph with a smirk.

Casey laughed, helping his friend get to his feet. Raph picked up the crutches Don had given him. He held back a bit while the others got settled around the table before maneuvering to his place.

Mike looked around the table. "Hey, where's Donny?" he asked.

"He's with Sierra," said Leonardo quietly. "I'll get him."

The blue-banded turtle was up and headed for the lab before Michelangelo could answer.

"Ok, Bro," he said quietly to his brother's retreating back. He glanced at Austin. "Should we wait for 'em?" he asked.

"Let's wait," she said softly.

Michelangelo fidgeted in the chair. In a few minutes, Donatello emerged from the med-lab, looking every bit as though he hadn't slept in nearly twenty-four hours. He made his way to the table and sank down quietly at his place.

"Where's Leo?" asked Mike, impatient.

"He's… not coming," said Don. "He wants to sit with Sierra."

"Aw, man," complained Mike. "I wanted the _whole_ family here for this."

"It's ok, Mikey," said Don quietly. "Go ahead. Tell them, before you burst."

"Mikey? What's going on?" asked April.

"You have news to share, Michelangelo?" inquired LH, giving Donatello a startled look.

Casey was staring at the orange-banded turtle, too. "Yeah, Mikey, what's up, Dude?"

"Well, we wanted to tell you," Mike was beaming. "Me an' Austin, we're… we're gonna have a baby!"

April squealed, clapping. She pounced on Michelangelo, wrapping her arms around him and planting a big kiss on his cheek.

"Congratulations, you two!" she said, releasing Mike and enveloping Austin in a gentler hug.

Casey got up and clapped Mikey on the shell. "Way to go, Dude!" he crowed.

"Michelangelo!" Leatherhead stared at the orange banded turtle. "Congratulations, my friend!" He glanced at Donatello, who grinned a bit sheepishly back.

"Sorry, LH. Mike wanted to tell you himself," said Don.

"It is quite all right, my friend," said Leatherhead with a chuckle. "It would seem that you and I will have reason for spending some time together."

"Indeed." Don beamed.

When the hugging and laughter finally died down, they all sat down at the table to enjoy the meal. Even Splinter couldn't stop smiling as the food rapidly disappeared.

Finally April and Casey excused themselves, heading for home with huge smiles, holding hands, still almost glowing with happiness.

Michelangelo started to clear the table as Donatello headed back to the lab. Austin picked up a plate, only to have it unceremoniously plucked from her hand. She turned with a shock to find Beverly grinning at her.

"Go. Sit. Both of you." Beverly made a shooing motion with her hands. "You guys fixed dinner. Ann and I will clean up."

Austin began to protest, but Beverly shook her head. "Go. We can handle it, Austin. Honestly, Ann's not going to blow up the _sink._ Don't worry. We can handle doing a few dishes. Go on, now."

Finally Austin allowed her husband to shepherd her away from the table. Beverly met Ann's eyes and grinned.

"Aren't they cute?"

Ann grimaced. "Yeah. Cute." Her expression melted into a grin. "Yeah, I guess they really are," she admitted.

Beverly's comment was forestalled when Gene and Marjory came into the dining room, smiling. "I'll run the water in the sink," said Marjory.

"Oh! Oh, no, you guys are guests," protested Ann.

Gene shook his head. "After all we've been through together?" he said with a smile.

Bev and Ann exchanged glances, but didn't protest as the couple pitched in. There were, after all, an enormous number of dishes to wash after twelve people enjoyed a meal together. They weren't about to turn down an offer of help.

***

It was Donatello this time, who got the call. He flipped his shell-cell open, startled to see April's number.

"Hi, April. Did you miss us already?" he asked with a grin.

"Donny?" April's voice was strained. Don peered at the small screen, shocked to see tears sliding down his friend's cheeks.

"What's going on, April?"

"Don… Casey… he's hurt."

"What do you mean, hurt? April, where are you?"

"We… we got back… to his place… I think we've lost them. Don, my place… it's destroyed. We went there first… Casey wanted to go up the fire escape… He said it was quicker and we could go up to the roof and see the stars…"

"April. What happened?" Don asked gently.

"When we passed my window, we could see the place was trashed, and some men in suits were waiting for us inside. We climbed back down but there were more waiting by the van... Donny… please. Just come. He's unconscious and he's lost a lot of blood."

"I'll be there in ten minutes, April."

"Don?"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful."


	20. Chapter 20 Memories

_Chapter 20 –Memories-  
~~~_

_Derrick Jonstone loomed over his young wife. Sierra could smell the whiskey on his breath, feel the anger radiating off him as if it were heat. Hayley was crying again, sobbing as though her two-year-old heart would break._

Stop it, Derrick!_ shouted Sierra. He laughed… _laughed_. She scrambled backward, ducking his lunging grab. Snatching up the empty amber bottle from the counter, she held it out in front of her as if she could ward him off. He snarled and swatted at her, made clumsy by the alcohol running through his veins. She swung again, hitting his head with a solid clunk. _

_He staggered. His hand went to his head and came away with a streak of red across the palm. He stared at the blood as if he hadn't been aware that he could bleed before that moment. When his eyes met hers, Sierra saw death written there. _

_He charged and she screamed._

***

"No! Hayley!" Sierra sat straight up and regretted it immediately as pain shot through her body.

"Hey! Hey, lie down, now. You're ok…"

Firm, strong hands caught her shoulders. She cried out, cringing away.

"No, it's ok. You're safe now… it's ok. No one's going to hurt you…" The calm voice soothed her and she allowed herself to be laid back down. The muscular hands released her as soon as she was settled on the bed. Sweat slid down the back of her neck and she shivered, suddenly cold.

"Wh… where am I?" Sierra blinked, forcing herself to take deep, slow breaths.

"You're in the Lair. With friends. You're safe here."

"What… happened?" She focused on the voice. It was soft, deep and strong.

"You were kidnapped. We got you out and brought you back to our home. Do you remember?"

Slowly, she turned her head to look at him. Dark eyes behind a blue mask. _Leonardo…_ the name registered in her mind. Sierra relaxed.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"It's ok. How are you feeling?"

"Everything hurts." She closed her eyes.

"Bev can give you some more morphine…"

"No!" Sierra forced her eyes open again. "No. Thank you. I'll be ok." She managed a weak smile.

"Are you sure?" he asked, gazing at her with concern.

"I'll be all right," she said softly.

"Ok, but don't be afraid to speak up," he said softly. "Bev'll be mad if she thinks you should've had something and I don't tell her."

Sierra shook her head. "No," she said again. She closed her eyes.

"Are you hungry?"

"I… maybe a little," she admitted.

"It's not surprising," he said. His voice was soft, grave. "You haven't had anything to eat since we brought you back. It's been almost twenty-four hours since you were taken, as near as we can tell. Did they give you anything?"

Sierra shuddered involuntarily. "No."

"I'll get you something," he said quietly.

"Wait!" Opening her eyes, she reached her hand toward him.

"What? What do you need?" Leonardo came closer, just out of reach of her outstretched finger-tips.

"Please." Tears filled her eyes. "Don't leave. I… I don't want to be alone."

"I'll be right in the next room."

"No! Please. Stay." Sierra shifted on the bed, reaching a little further.

Leonardo relented with a reluctant sigh, coming close enough for her to grasp his hand. He seemed startled at the contact, but let her hold on. Sierra felt the warmth of his fingers pressing against her palm and relaxed, her trembling subsiding. After a moment, she opened her eyes again.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, releasing him. "I… I don't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"No, it's ok," he said. Dark eyes regarded her steadily. "You've been through a lot."

"The Foot… they came to my apartment," she whispered. "Gene!" Suddenly Sierra was struggling to sit up again.

This time Leo's reflexes were quicker. He caught her before she could lift herself off the bed, pinning her gently.

"Sierra, it's ok. Gene and Marjory are safe. They're here, in the Lair. They've been in and out, but you've been unconscious."

"They're… here?"

"Yes. They're ok, I promise."

"They're safe?" She laid back, tears tracking down her cheeks and soaking into her hair.

"I give you my word," he said.

Sierra finally relaxed. She sniffed. "Why… why are you here?" she asked.

He shifted, looking away. "I… I thought you shouldn't be alone," he said softly. "Don and Mike have gone… out." He trailed off. Sierra gazed into his face, searching, but his expression was closed, his eyes dark behind the mask.

"Leonardo, something's wrong. What's going on?" she asked softly. "Please."

"Friends of ours were attacked tonight," he said finally. "We don't know yet whether it was the Foot. Don and Mike have gone to bring them back here."

"You didn't go with them?"

"My father forbade me," he said quietly.

"Why?"

"I… I'd rather not talk about it."

He met her gaze with a bleak look. He started to pull away from her hand, but she tightened her grip, holding on, instinctively wanting to comfort him.

"Sierra?"

The voice had Leo leaping to his feet, turning to face the door and reaching for the katana that was no longer strapped to his back. Gene Spencer held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I heard voices. Is she awake?"

"Gene." Sierra half-sat up again, but Leo turned back to the bed and gently pushed her back down.

"You really have to stop trying to get up," he scolded. "You're going to aggravate your injuries."

"Sorry," she said a bit sheepishly. "I feel so foolish… Can't I sit up at all?"

The turtle shook his head. "I don't know," he said. "I'll get Bev. She and Don are our resident doctors. She should have a look at you anyway."

Sierra made a face. "I hate doctors," she said.

Gene laughed. "I can vouch for that," he said with a smile. "But Sierra, Beverly and Donatello are doing their best to help you."

"I know, Gene, and I appreciate it," said Sierra, blushing. She glanced at Leo, afraid she might've offended him, but he gave her a smile.

"I'll be right back," he said.

"Sierra, how are you feeling?" Gene took Leonardo's place at her bed-side.

"Sore," she admitted. "How long have you been here?"

"About a day. When I found your apartment trashed, I called Leonardo. He came and picked me up, and we got Marj. The boys dropped us off here and went after you. They're quite a team."

"They're… amazing," she said softly. "I can't believe they risked themselves to get me out. That man…" She shuddered.

"Take it easy, Sierra," said Gene.

"No, it's ok," she said. "He kept asking me, 'where are the turtles'. I wouldn't have told him if I'd known."

A slight noise at the door made her lift her head. Leonardo was standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

"Sorry," he said faintly. "Bev's just fixing you a plate. She says I'm not allowed near the microwave."

Gene laughed and Sierra saw a blush creep up Leonardo's cheeks.

"I've only blown it up once this year," he muttered.

Sierra giggled. "So you can handle a katana, but not a kitchen appliance?" she asked, teasing.

Leonardo's face darkened and he turned away. "I'll… see if Bev's got that food ready."

"Wait! Leonardo, I didn't mean…" Sierra called, but the ninja was already gone.

"Oh! Gene, I hope I didn't offend him," she said. Tears filled her eyes.

"No, Sierra, it's ok. Everyone seems to tease him about his lack of competence in the kitchen, I don't think that's the problem." Gene was frowning. "Can you tell me what happened, when they came to get you?"

"It's all pretty… blurred," said Sierra slowly. "I remember being in a cell. A man was there, the one who kept asking me about them." She shuddered again and Gene reached out, but didn't quite touch her hand.

"I heard shouting…" She drew a deep breath, closing her eyes. "They were there… fighting. I…" She frowned.

"What is it?" asked Gene softly.

"I think… Leonardo… It had to be him. I mean… I didn't know it was him at first, but everything was so confused…"

"What about Leonardo, Sierra?" Beverly asked, coming into the room.

Sierra's eyes snapped open. "Oh! Oh, I… I don't know." She eyed the woman warily as Bev approached the bed.

"How are you feeling?" asked Beverly gently. She stopped a few feet away from the bedside, giving Sierra a little space.

"Better. Well enough to sit up," said Sierra, holding herself tense.

_Deep breaths,_ she thought. _It's not the hospital. She's trying to help…_

"Sierra, Gene told me about how you feel about doctors," said Beverly.

Sierra shot Gene a wounded look. _He told them?_

He shook his head. "I didn't say why," he told her quietly.

"Thanks, Gene," said Sierra, relaxing slightly.

"Neither Don nor I will do anything you don't want us to do," said Beverly. She set the plate she was carrying on the desk.

"We're trying to help you, ok? I won't touch you if you don't want me to. The only thing I ask is that you understand, if we feel you're not healing properly or you need care beyond what we can offer, that we'll have to take you to a hospital."

"No!" Sierra sat up quite suddenly and had to bite back a gasp of pain. "I'm not going to any hospital!"

"Ok, ok." Bev held up her hands. "Just take it easy. Here, would you be more comfortable sitting up? Let me fix the pillows, ok?"

She moved around the bed, arranging pillows behind Sierra's back. Sierra sank back, trying to control her breathing. She could smell the meatloaf, potatoes and green beans on the plate Beverly had brought. Despite her anxiety, Sierra realized she was hungry. The woman picked up the plate and handed it to her carefully.

"Thanks," she managed.

"You should heal completely," said Beverly, smiling as Sierra tucked into the food. "Your ribs are the main concern at this point. Too much movement isn't good for them." She gave Sierra a pointed look.

_No kidding._

"How does your face feel?"

"Hurts," admitted Sierra around a mouthful. "But it aches… not sharp. I don't think anything's broken this time."

"This time? You've had injuries like this before?" Beverly's eyebrows rose.

"Yes," said Sierra quietly. She didn't elaborate.

"Ok. Now, what were you saying before, about Leo?" asked Beverly.

Sierra avoided the woman's gaze, poking a green bean with her fork.

_How can I tell her that I saw him kill a man? They're warriors. I'm sure it's not the first time he's killed. Anyway, he saved my life._

Beverly sighed. "You saw it, didn't you? You saw him kill that Foot soldier."

Green eyes snapped up to meet blue. "You knew?"

Beverly nodded. "Don told me. Leo's… upset," she said softly, glancing at Gene. "They all are." She grabbed a stool, pulling it over to Sierra's bedside.

"I noticed," said Gene. "But I'm not sure I understand why. Surely it's not the first time he's had to take a life?"

"Please try to understand," she said. "The boys, they live by the code of Bushido."

Gene looked up, startled. "Oh, no." Understanding dawned in his eyes.

Sierra shook her head, frustrated. "What does that mean?"

"Among other things, it means that they value life. In fact, they will give their own to protect another," explained Gene. "Of course they will kill to defend themselves or someone else, but if Leonardo feels he acted dishonorably in killing an unarmed man…"

"Leo's been under a lot of stress lately," said Beverly softly. "He's the leader… the protector of the Clan. In the past couple weeks, one brother was severely hurt, almost killed. He found out Austin is pregnant the night you were taken…" Bev shook her head. "He's got a lot of responsibility on his shoulders," she said softly.

"If I understand what happened, the man was hurting Sierra," said Gene.

"Yes, but the rules of combat still apply," said Beverly. "Leo feels he should've allowed the man a chance to defend himself. He's feeling very guilty right now."

"What about the others? Do they condemn him as well?" asked Gene. He met Beverly's eyes. "Forgive me, perhaps this isn't my business," he said.

"No, it's ok. You're involved in this too. You have a right to know what's going on. No one blames Leo for what he did. They understand. They're a very close family. They're just worried about him. His father won't let him fight again until Leo has this resolved in his own mind. It's like an injury… He wouldn't send Raph into battle with his broken leg, and he won't let Leo fight while he's carrying this burden of guilt."

"That makes sense I guess," said Sierra slowly. "Will he be ok?"

Beverly gave her a bleak look. "I don't know."

Sierra felt something twist in her chest. _Oh, Leonardo. If only you could see yourself the way I do… you are amazing._

"Bev?" Donatello's voice rang through the Lair. "Bev, I need you."

"Coming!" The woman hurried from the room. In a few minutes, Don, Leo and Mike appeared in the doorway, carrying a tall man on a make-shift stretcher.

"Casey, hang on. You're going to be ok," A red-haired woman followed them in, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"April! What happened?" asked Gene, moving to the head of Sierra's bed to get out of the way. No one noticed the way Sierra's face went pale and she began to tremble, staring at the man on the stretcher, except Leonardo. He moved back to stand beside the bed. He started to reach for her hand, but thought the better of it and withdrew.

"Some men were waiting for us at the apartment," April managed. She moved aside to let Michelangelo back away from the bed where Don and Beverly were working frantically to deal with Casey's wound.

"Leo…" she met the leader's eyes. "It was Bishop."


	21. Chapter 21 A Gift

**A/N: Yes, Leo's considering what you think he is. Shell-head. Thanks to Ramica for the reminder of the warrior's way of dealing with dishonor. **

* * *

_No man can redeem the life of another or give to God a ransom for him- the ransom for a life is costly, no payment is ever enough- that he should live on forever and not see decay._

_-_David, Psalms 49:7-9 NIV

* * *

_Chapter 21 -A Gift-  
~~~_

Leonardo stared at the woman. "Are you sure, April?"

"Yes. I saw the EPF logo on the van they came out of."

"That does it. We're going to have to leave town," said Leo. "Sierra, Pastor Spencer, if you're willing, I think you should come with us."

"Are you sure, Leonardo? It sounds as if your family has a lot to deal with right now," said Gene.

"I'm sure. Pastor, John Bishop is the head of an organization called the Earth Protection Force," explained Leo. "He's sort of an alien hunter. Aliens, mutants, it doesn't seem to matter to him. He captured Michelangelo once, and tried to dissect him." He turned at the sharp gasp from beside him. Sierra's eyes were stretched wide with horror.

_She looked at _me_ like that, in the Foot Tower. Just before she called me a monster. _The thought drifted through Leo's mind.

He forced himself to focus. "Do you need anything? We'll gather some supplies tonight, and leave as soon as Casey's able to be moved."

"Marj and I don't need anything," said Gene. He glanced at the woman, still staring in shock at them both. "Sierra?"

"I have to go home… my girls…"

"Don't worry," said Gene gently. "I'll go and take care of things at your place. Sierra, will you come with them? Please. I know you don't want to leave, but there isn't anyone else who can take care of you."

"No one has to take care of me," said Sierra indignantly. She struggled up from the pillows, trying to swing her legs off the bed.

"Sierra!" Leonardo was at her side in an instant. "Please don't try to get up. If you have some place else to go, we'll take you there, but I… we would like you to come with us. Please. April and Casey have a farmhouse. It's a huge place. We go there sometimes. It's kind of a home away from home…"

"Farmhouse?" Sierra sounded wary. Her green eyes bored into Leonardo's.

"Yeah. Trees, nature, all that. There's even a lake. It's peaceful." Leo looked into her green eyes and felt his breath catch.

"Ok," said Sierra, sinking back. She glanced at the Pastor. "If Gene and Marjory are coming, too."

Leo's heart quickened ridiculously. A low moan from the second bed had him turning.

"Don, how is he?" he asked. The vigilante'd been quite pale when Mike and Don carried him into the Lair.

"He's going to be ok," said Donatello, his voice strained with fatigue and worry. "He lost a lot of blood, but the bullet didn't go deeply into his shoulder. We've got the bleeding mostly stopped and gave him a local. We'll have to take the bullet out."

"Whatdaya mean, Donny? Yer gonna cut dis t'ing outta me?" A hoarse voice came from the bed. Leo smiled in spite of himself. If Casey was healthy enough to complain, he would be ok.

"Unless you'd rather we take you to a hospital, Casey," said Don quietly.

"No. No, I'll stay here," Casey rasped. "Dat Bishop guy… he was waitin' fer us. One o' dem guys tried grabbin' Ape an' draggin' her inta a van… Jose and me, we saw 'em off. I t'ink I busted da guy's arm. Anyway, he let go o' Ape, an' we got outta there."

"Jose?" Gene's eyebrows rose.

"His baseball bat," explained Leo with a faint smile. "It's a Jose Conseco."

"How'd you get away?" Donatello asked, cleaning the wound expertly.

"I… dunno…" Casey's words slurred as the painkiller kicked in. Donatello nodded to Beverly, who began preparing a tray of basic instruments.

"Sierra, why don't we move you to the other room," said Leonardo. The young woman nodded, looking quite pale. The scent of blood and disinfectant hung thick in the air. "I'll carry you," said Leo quietly.

"What? No, I can walk…"

"I wouldn't recommend it." Donatello looked over his shoulder. "Sierra, that ankle is still weak, and if you were to fall…"

"Ok, ok," she muttered.

Leonardo stood next to the bed, but didn't reach for her. He didn't want to make her any more uncomfortable than she already was.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"I… I guess so," answered the woman.

"Sierra, if you don't want me to…"

"No. No, it's ok." She held her arms up to him like a child asking to be picked up. Leo smiled.

Very gently, he slid his arm under her knees, and the other behind her shoulders. Her silky hair brushed his arm. He met her eyes and had to control a shiver. Leonardo felt as if he could drown in those green pools. He swallowed hard, struggling for control.

"Ready?" he asked softly.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

The woman gasped, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck as he lifted her. His breath caught at the softness of her hands against his skin. She closed her eyes for a moment. Leo could feel a faint trembling in her body. He carried her carefully out in to the main Lair, painfully aware of the soft body pressed against his plastron, her hitched breathing brushing the skin of his shoulder. Slowly, cautiously, he carried her to his own room and set her gently down on the bed.

When he stepped back his arms felt disappointingly cool. He wanted more than anything to draw her close to him again, to feel her soft body pressed against his… He shook his head as if he could throw the thought out.

_What has gotten into me? Have I completely lost my sense of control?_

He turned quite abruptly away. "Please let me know if you need anything," he said stiffly.

"I will," she said softly. She sounded a bit breathless.

"I'll… I'll just go and let you get some rest now, ok?"

"Umm, Leonardo?"

He drew a deep breath and turned back to the bed. "Yes?"

"Thank you."

A genuine smile tugged at his lips in spite of his raging emotions.

"You're welcome."

Leo made his way downstairs. He heard Casey's muttered curses from the lab and the quiet rise and fall of Don and Bev's voices as they worked.

_April will stay with him. Don and Bev are the best. They'll be fine,_ he thought. A loud snore from the couch told him Raphael was getting some much-needed sleep. Mike and Austin had gone to bed as well.

_We're running out of beds,_ thought Leo. _Sierra's in mine. _His heart skipped a beat annoyingly at the tried to ignore the feeling.

_Pastor Gene and Marjory are in the room Ann usually uses. Good thing Raph's been using the couch anyway, that left his room open for Ann. Casey can stay in the lab until we leave for the farmhouse and April can use the bed Sierra was in…_

Leo felt something twinge in his chest. He drew a slow, deep breath. His arms ached, missing the warmth of her body. He gave himself a mental shake and headed for the kitchen to fix a cup of chamomile tea.

_Maybe that will help me sleep_, he thought.

He'd just put the pan of water on to boil when someone entered the kitchen behind him. He turned to see Gene Spencer standing in the doorway.

"I've heard it's dangerous to startle a ninja," said Gene.

"It is," Leo told him seriously.

Gene chuckled. "I'll try not to sneak up on you, then."

Leo returned his grin with a smirk. "It's pretty hard to sneak up on one of us," he said. "But of all of us, Raph is the one you _really _don't want to wake up."

"I'll remember that."

"Would you like a cup of tea, Pastor?" asked Leo, pouring the hot water into the chipped tea-pot. He put on the lid to keep the steam in while the leaves steeped.

"That would be nice," said Gene. "Thank you. But Leonardo, please, call me Gene."

"All right. You can call me Leo. My brothers do," said Leonardo easily. He fetched two mugs from the cupboard and carefully poured the tea. He handed one to Gene and sat down at the table, wrapping his hands around the steaming mug.

Gene took a sip. "Mmm," he said, sounding surprised. "This is really good."

"Thanks. It's Splinter's blend," said Leo with a faint smile. "We buy him the loose leaves and he mixes them the way he likes them."

"He's a remarkable person," said Gene.

"He's a great father," said Leo, staring into his tea. His hands tightened on the cup. A slight hitch to his breathing was the only other outward sign of the emotions raging in him.

_He's a great father, a great teacher… and I let him down._

"Do you… want to talk about it?"

Leonardo's dark eyes snapped up in shock. He stared at the man across the table. Gene returned his gaze calmly. Leo felt himself begin to tremble.

"About… what?" he asked finally.

"Leo, if you don't want to talk to a complete stranger, I understand," said Gene quietly. "But I'm a Pastor_._ Part of what I do is listening to people. It might help to talk to someone… outside your family. Someone you don't feel you've let down or shamed."

Leonardo felt heat rising in his cheeks. He opened his mouth to refuse, but the words wouldn't come.

"Leo." Gene's eyes were soft, but not with pity. Leonardo swallowed hard. He saw something like… understanding, gazing back at him. "You're not the first person ever to make a mistake."

"I took a _life_, Gene. It's a little more than just a mistake," said Leonardo finally. Gene started to protest, but Leo shook his head. "No. There are no excuses. I'm a trained warrior, Gene. I've spent my whole life living by a code of honor; learning how _not_ to kill, and in one moment, I threw it all away. He was unarmed. I killed him in cold blood." _And the price for a life is a life._

"Leonardo, I won't pretend what you did wasn't wrong," said Gene slowly. "Or excusable. But it's certainly understandable, considering the amount of stress you've been under. The stress you live with every single day…"

"That's just it, Gene," said Leo softly. He stared into his teacup as if he could find the answer there. "The truth is… it wasn't a moment of uncontrollable fury. I was angry, sure… Seeing Sierra like that…" He drew a shuddering breath and forced himself to look up. "I… made a choice. In that moment, I decided that man didn't deserve to live any longer and I was going to do something about it. I _chose_ to kill, Gene. I… I committed murder." A dry sob caught in Leonardo's chest. He ducked his head, trying hard to swallow the tears that threatened to overwhelm him.

_Sierra was right. I _am_ a monster._

For several long heartbeats, Leonardo's ragged breathing and his hitching efforts to control it, were the only sounds in the little room.

"_A man cannot be established through wickedness, but the righteous cannot be uprooted_," said Gene softly.

"What?" Leo looked up, confused.

"It's a quote," said Gene. "From Proverbs. Leo, listen… you are a good person."

"It's not enough," said Leonardo. "Without honor, I am nothing but a common criminal."

"Leonardo." Gene spoke softly, but his voice was as stern as Splinter's had ever been. "Do you really think you _can_ be good enough?"

"What? What do you mean?" Leonardo stared into the man's blue eyes.

"Do you know anyone… _anyone_, who doesn't have regrets?" The man's eyes were hard, but not cold. "This world is broken, Leo. It's coming apart at the seams, has been for centuries. Evil always rises up; it's always fighting, scrabbling to get a foothold. Even within ourselves."

Leo nodded. Tears prickled his eyes again. "I know," he said softly. "We've spent our whole lives fighting it."

"Exactly," said Gene. "Leo, you and your brothers, you fight for what's _right_. You've dedicated your entire _lives_ to doing the right thing, to living up to a moral code. That's more than most people ever dream of. You've got to cut yourself a little slack. You're not perfect, Leonardo."

"But I should be," said Leo softly. His gaze dropped to the dregs left in his teacup. "I should've been stronger. The very thing I'm always fighting against in my brother, the urge for vengeance, defeated me."

"Leo, we're all defeated," said Gene softly. "Before we're old enough to understand what defeat is. It's just the nature of humanity."

Leo shook his head. "I don't have that luxury," he said bitterly.

Gene's eyebrows rose. "You don't have the luxury of being human?"

"I don't have the luxury of being _weak,_" snapped Leo. "How can I lead them? How can I tell Raph not to go postal on the enemy? How can I look them in the eye and ask them to follow me into battle, ever again? I'm a failure," he whispered.

_I know the only way out, the only honorable way to deal with this. When this is over, when my family is safe...when they don't need me so much anymore._

Gene hesitated. Slowly, he got to his feet. "Wait a minute, Leo. I want to give you something."

Before Leonardo could protest, the man hurried from the kitchen. Soon he was back, carrying a slim book. Leo looked up, meeting Gene's eyes, confused. The man met his gaze steadily.

"I don't know how you feel about… religion, Leonardo," he said, passing the book over. "I mean, I assumed if anything Splinter would have studied Taoism."

Leo shook his head. "We never really talked about it, aside from the principals of Bushido," he said softly. "What is this, Gene?" He turned the book over in his hands. _New Testament_ was stamped in gold on the front.

"It's a Bible. Well, it's part of a Bible. It's the story of Jesus and his followers," said Gene quietly. "It includes Psalms and Proverbs as well, even though they're part of the Old Testament."

At Leo's blank look, he chuckled. "If you want, I can give you a history lesson later, explain all that. But for now… Just read it. I don't guarantee anything, Leo, but… I know _I_ found peace in that book. Maybe it can help you, too."

"Umm… Ok. Thanks, Gene." Leo managed a smile. "I'll try to read it on the way to the farm, so I can return it to you before we come home."

Gene shook his head. "No, Leonardo, it's a gift. Keep it."

"What? Oh! Oh, thanks."

Leo brushed his hand over the supple leather cover.

"Thanks a lot, Gene. We don't get a lot of reading material down here." He smiled with real pleasure.

"Enjoy it," said Gene. "Let me know what you think of it." He smiled and nearly cracked his jaw on a yawn. "That tea really puts you to sleep, doesn't it?"

"That's what I was hoping for," said Leonardo quietly. He gathered the cups and set them in the sink. "You should get some rest. We'll go to Sierra's apartment to pick up whatever she needs there in the morning, then head for the farm."

"Sounds good to me," said Gene. "Good night."

"Goodnight, Gene."

The Pastor stood up, clapping Leo on the shoulder in a friendly gesture, before heading off to bed.

Leo sat for a long moment, staring at the book. He opened the cover, frowning slightly over the delicate tissue-thin pages.

_I'll read it in the morning,_ he thought, closing it. _I can't see how it can help… just another book of ancient wisdom, but still. Gene really is a special person. It's just too bad they had to get caught up in our mess. Just three more innocent lives that will never be the same, because of us. Oh, Gene, Marjory, Sierra… _Splinter_. I'm so sorry. _

Leo put his head down on the table, letting his silent tears fall.


	22. Chapter 22 A Question of Commitment

_Chapter 22 –A Question of Commitment-  
~~~_

Outside, the first tendrils of light were beginning to peek through the clouds which had dumped a slow but steady rain on the city all night, washing the streets, soaking the grass in the park and flowing in a steady trickle down into the sewer system, dripping with a rhythm to soothe sleeping turtles far below the city streets.

Raphael shifted restlessly on the couch. He was thoroughly sick of being prone, but the sound of Ann's soft footsteps crossing the Lair toward him lightened his mood considerably.

"Hiya, Babe," he called softly as she came across the rec room toward the couch.

"How'd you know it was me?" she asked, leaning over to kiss him. He reached up, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and drawing her down against his plastron. She grinned, kneeling beside the couch and laying her cheek against his chest with a contented sigh.

"I'd know you anywhere," he whispered. "Yer beautiful, ya know that?" He reached up to run his fingers through her tousled hair.

"Mmmm," she murmured against him. "You smell _so_ good."

Raph sighed. Even with all the anxiety hanging over the Lair, in that moment he couldn't help but feel that all was right with the world.

"So, whatda ya t'ink o' all dis about Mike an' Austin?" he asked softly.

"I think it's amazing," said Ann. She shifted, leaning contentedly on his plastron. "I mean, I didn't exactly have a stellar childhood myself," she said, tracing Raph's plastron plate with her finger, "But Mike's going to be a great Dad, I just know it. And he's got you guys to help him. You," she lifted her head to gaze into his amber eyes with a soft smile. "You are going to be an amazing uncle."

Raphael smiled into her brown eyes. "I love ya, Ann."

"I love you, too."

Ann laid her cheek against his plastron, rubbing her hand along his collarbone where his plastron and skin met. Raph wriggled, shifting so she could lie more comfortably against him.

"Did ya… Did ya ever t'ink… you know, about…" He trailed off.

"What?" Ann smiled.

"I… I dunno. Never mind," said Raph gruffly.

Ann squeezed him and looked up. He avoided her gaze.

"What? Raphael, what is it?" she asked softly. When he didn't answer, she leaned forward, pressing her mouth against his. A low moan vibrated in Raph's throat as his arms tightened around her. Finally she broke off the kiss to stare into his eyes. "Raph, what is it?" she asked again.

"Well, I just…" He squirmed. "I just… wondered. Ya know, if… if ya ever t'ought about… ya know… havin' kids."

"Oh, Raph…" She smiled. "Have you?"

"Well, I t'ought… ya know, someday, I don't know… you know, bein' a dad wouldn't be so bad. Ya know, if… If you wanted to." He finally met her eyes and his breath caught in his throat.

"Oh, Raph… do you want kids?" asked Ann.

"Well, I dunno, I mean… if you don't wanna… we'll have Mike's rug-rat runnin' around da place…"

_Stupid shell-head. O' course she don't want babies. She don't even wanna get married…_

"Raphael, with you, I would love to have a family," she said softly.

Raph's breath hitched and he was glad there was no one else awake just yet, to see the tears he couldn't stop streaming down his cheeks. He caught her up in tight but gentle embrace.

"I love ya, Annie," he whispered.

"I love you, too," she answered.

"So… so does dis mean… does dis mean ya'll marry me?" he whispered, half afraid of the answer.

Ann's arms wrapped more tightly around his shoulders, reassuring. "Are you asking?" she whispered. Raph felt her chuckle against him.

"Yeah," he whispered.

"Ok."

"Dat's it? Jus' 'Ok'?"

"What do you want me to do?" she asked, lifting her head to smile into his eyes. "Faint?"

Raph's laughter rumbled in his chest. "Oh, Annie…"

She leaned forward, pressing her soft lips to his mouth, making Raph's breath hitch and quicken. They lay there, intertwined, for a long time, content in one another's company.

***

Leonardo stretched, wincing as his joints _snapped_ back into place. He'd taken up temporary residence on the floor in Splinter's room. The familiar scent of incense and the faint sound of the rat's breathing had lulled him until he'd finally been able to sleep.

"Good morning, Father," he said softly, keeping his gaze firmly down as he rolled up the sleeping bag he'd used.

"Good morning, my son. I hope you slept well." Splinter sat up on the thick, padded mat he used as a bed, calmly reaching for his robe and shrugging it over his narrow shoulders. His muscles rippled under his fur.

"Yes, Father," said Leo. "I hope I didn't disturb you."

"Not at all, my son," said Splinter.

"I'd better get the others up," said Leo quietly. "Mike and Don will have to go to Sierra's apartment with Gene. He shouldn't go alone."

"Do you not wish to accompany them, Leonardo?" Splinter asked.

"I… I did not think you would allow it, Father," said Leo. He stood tense, holding the sleeping bag under one arm, his gaze glued to the floor.

Splinter rose, tying his robe. He came forward and took Leo's arm in a firm but gentle grasp.

"Leonardo. You have a duty to your family."

The turtle looked at his father.

"I'm sorry, Sensei," he said, his voice wooden._ I'm letting my fear prolong what I know I need to do.  
_

"My son." Splinter peered into Leo's eyes. "Your duty is to lead your brothers as our family deals with this crisis," he said gently. "If you go cautiously, I do not expect you to have any cause to fight."

Leo blinked. "Thank you, Sensei," he said, feeling as if part of the burden had been lifted from him. He had permission to fulfill his duty to his family before... "I will not let you down, Father."

"Just be careful, Leonardo," said Splinter calmly.

Leonardo gave his master a short, formal bow and left the room.

***

Splinter assumed a lotus position on the mat and closed his eyes, allowing his emotions to settle down until they rested in the very pit of his stomach.

_Leonardo has always acted with honor. The fact that he regrets this man's death so deeply means that he understands the magnitude of such a mistake. Still, a life, once taken cannot be restored. I am certain Leonardo understands that while Bushido requires blood for blood, he cannot pay for this life with his own. I have always taught my sons to face their mistakes with honor, not to take the cowardly way out. Perhaps I have put too much pressure on one so young. Perhaps the worry of protecting and leading his brothers has become greater than I had understood._

_Oh, my son. I wish that I could lift this burden from your shoulders. But if I remove the mantle of leadership from you now, this wound may never heal. My son, how can I make you understand? You have made a grave mistake, but you are no monster._

_***_

"Are you ready, Don, Mike?" Leo asked, climbing into his customary seat in the Battle Shell. He felt naked without his precious katanas, but he had not asked Splinter if he could have them back. Not yet. He wasn't ready, wasn't finished with what he had to do.

"Let's get going, Leo," said Mikey with a grin. "I can't wait to get to the farmhouse, ya know?"

"Yeah." Leonardo laid his head back against the seat. "It'll be good to get away from the city for a while."

"You're gonna love it there, Marjory," said Mike, turning in the seat to face the Pastor's wife. "It's gorgeous, an' there's deer an' rabbits an' all kinds of stuff like that. Hey, Donny, do ya think the blueberries will be ripe yet?"

"There might be a few," said Don with a smile.

"Maybe we can ask Bev to bake some pies!" Michelangelo smacked his lips, pretending to swoon.

"Bev'll be busy helping me take care of Casey and Sierra, not to mention Austin," Donatello reminded him.

"What? Too busy to bake pie?" Mike shot his brother a wounded look.

"I could bake you a pie, Michelangelo," said Marjory, smiling.

"What? You can bake? Really?" The orange-banded turtle turned to the woman, his eyes lighting up.

"She sure can," said Gene, reaching over to pat Marj's knee. "She's the best pie-baker I've ever met. I married her for her cooking, you know." He dodged Marj's swat with a chuckle.

"Oh, boy, blueberry pie." Mike leaned back in the seat with an expression of contented bliss.

"Ok, Mike, let's focus," said Leonardo with a faint smile. "We've got to be careful. It's nearly daylight outside. We'll park in the alley and go up the fire escape. Pastor, Marjory, give us five minutes to get inside and make sure the place is clear, ok? Then you can come upstairs the front way."

"Are you sure we should be doing this now, Leonardo?" asked Gene. "You're taking a big risk, aren't you, going out during the day like this?"

"Yes," said Leo grimly. "But it's also a bad time for the Foot. And this way we can leave this afternoon for the farm. With Bishop around, we want to get out of town as quickly as possible."

"Sounds good to me," said Gene, shivering. "The guy sounds like a real nut."

"He is," said Leo. They pulled up to the apartment building. "This is it. Everyone knows what to do?"

"Yep." Mike shifted on the seat, fidgeting. "Let's get this done."

"We're clear, Leo. It's early, no one's moving around much," said Don, scanning the alley with his heat-seeking camera. "As far as I can tell, no one's standing near their windows or anything."

"That could change in a heartbeat, so be careful," cautioned the leader. "Ok, let's go."

"We're right behind you, Leo," said Don quietly, meeting his brother's eyes.

Leonardo clasped his brother's arm for a moment before slipping out of the Battle Shell and heading up the fire escape.

It didn't take long to check for intruders. It was obvious the place hadn't been occupied since Sierra had been taken. Gene and Marjory came to the door and Michelangelo let them in.

Leo's dark eyes were narrow behind the mask as he scanned the wreckage of the small apartment. Furniture had been turned over, dishes and colored pencils scattered liberally across the floor. The sharp scent of… something vaguely familiar, wafted up.

"Dude? What happened here?" Michelangelo broke the silence.

"The Foot happened, Mikey," said Don quietly. "It looks like she put up quite a fight."

A small round bottle lay tipped over on the floor. Leonardo bent, picking it up and finally recognized the scent. Rum. He remembered smelling it on Raph's breath once or twice when he'd been out with Casey. Fortunately Raph quickly decided that alcohol slowed his reflexes too much and didn't make drinking a regular habit.

"She uses it sometimes, to get to sleep at night," said Marjory Spencer quietly.

Leo nodded and set the bottle down on a small end-table, the only piece of furniture still in one piece. He froze, staring at the pad of paper lying there, half-covered by a carelessly discarded book.

"She'll want her Bible," said Gene, picking the book up tenderly. He smoothed the pages, closing the cover over them. Leo barely glanced at the man. The paper, revealed, was almost completely covered with a drawing.

Leo stared. "She's an artist." The pitiful shattered rainbow of colored pencils scattered over the floor made sense now.

"Yes," said Marjory. Leonardo could hear the smile under the strain in the woman's voice.

"Wow. Leo, is that you an' Raph?" Michelangelo leaned over his brother's shoulder to gaze at the drawing.

"She's good," commented Donatello.

Leo picked up the pad, staring. The powerfully drawn strokes held so much emotion. He'd never seen a portrait of himself and his brothers so skillfully done. Only Mike could draw them like this, so perfectly, and he'd known them all their lives. Leo felt an odd tug in his chest as he gazed at the picture.

_It's like she could really _see_ us._

"Do… do you think she did this?" he asked, angling the pad so the humans could see.

"She must have," said Marjory softly. She glanced at Leonardo as if she'd say more, but just shook her head.

"This must be why she was taken," said Leo.

_She was taken because of us._ The pain that stabbed through his chest stole Leo's breath.

"Leonardo, you know the Foot are ruthless," said Gene. "They would've taken her anyway, for interfering back at the church."

_But she said they kept asking where we were,_ thought Leo with a pang. _They must've seen the drawing, and assumed she knew us. Don't worry, Sierra,_ he vowed. _I'll make sure you're safe._

"I'll gather some of her clothes," said Marjory quietly.

She headed for the bedroom. A noise had Leo spinning, taking a defensive crouch, reaching automatically for the empty space where his katanas should have been. There was a yipping sound.

"Those are sugar gliders," said Donatello, moving toward the cage, fascinated.

"What's a sugar glider, Dude?" Michelangelo frowned, confused.

"They're marsupials, Mike. From Indonesia and Australia."

"Mar-_what_-ials? Aww, they're little squirrels." Mike leaned close to the cage, twitching back when the tiny animal inside made a loud, harsh sound.

"Marsupials," explained Don patiently. "They have a pouch, like a kangaroo or an opossum. Some people keep them as pets."

"She loves them," said Gene softly. "They keep her company. She's told me they keep her sane. Leonardo." The man's voice was hesitant. "We… we can't leave her pets. They need to be fed daily. Sierra would never forgive me if I let something happen to them."

"What? We can't take them," protested Leo, glancing at the wire cage.

"Oh, come on, Dude. They're mondo cool," said Michelangelo. "The cage isn't that big. They can stay in my room."

"Mikey…"

"Leo, Mike's right. We can't just leave them to starve," said Donatello. "The enclosure is manageable. Mike can carry it down to the Battle Shell."

"Seriously, Dude."

Leonardo opened his mouth to protest, but Michelangelo was already picking up the cage.

"Their food is in the freezer I think," said Gene. He opened the freezer door and grabbed a large Ziploc bag, adding it to the small pile near the door.

"Is there anything else?" asked Leo sarcastically.

"She'll want her pencils, said Marjory, coming out of the bedroom with a small bag and a larger guitar-shaped case. She knelt, gathering the scattered pencils up as tenderly as if they were glass instead of wood and colored lead.

Leo shook his head, but helped the woman collect the pencils. "We really do have to go now," he said firmly.

_We've got to get out of here. It's not safe to be topside, with the Foot obviously interested in this place._

Marjory straightened, laying the pencils gently in a box. Leonardo handed her the drawing pad. She smiled, glancing at the portrait and back at him.

"It really is a remarkable likeness," she said softly. "You must love your brother very much." Leo met the woman's eyes briefly, at a loss for what to say. She gave him another gentle smile and closed the pad carefully.

"Let's go," he said.

The group filed cautiously down the back stairs and out to the Battle Shell waiting in the alley.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Mikell: "FINALLY!!" *does a happy dance*  
Raph: "D'aaww..." *blushes***

**heh**

**And Leo... Leo, you _shell-head. _  
**


	23. Chapter 23 Flight

**A/N: Yeah, Leo's still being a bonehead. *sigh*  


* * *

**_Chapter 23 -Flight-  
~~~_

"How's Michaels doing?" asked the woman.

Special Agent Paul Stone glanced at his partner, Rita Francis. "Ok, I guess. His arm's busted."

She shook her head. "I heard the guy whacked him with a base-ball bat."

"Yeah. They didn't count on the O'Neil woman having someone with her." Stone sighed.

"No. It was pretty dumb, going after her." she remarked.

"Bishop's not happy."

"So I gathered. That was some meeting this morning." Rita shivered. "Do you think he meant it, about failure being subject to discipline?"

Stone gave her a look. "Have you ever heard him joke?"

"Guess we'd better not blow this stake-out then, huh?" Rita said.

"Guess not."

"Do you really think they'll come back here?" she asked, squirming in the seat.

Stone picked up the binocs, for lack of anything better to do, and scanned the apartment building again.

"If they do, we'll know. We rigged that antiques place with sensors and cameras. No one could get in there without our knowing."

"I hope it's not a waste of time."

"Hey, we were told to watch the place, we're watching it. Relax, Francis."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," said Rita softly. "I'd just hate to be here if one of those turtles do show up."

Stone snorted. He would never admit it to the petite blond sitting next to him, but he agreed, one-hundred percent.

_We'll just sit and do our stake-out like good little agents,_ he thought. _Let some other fool play the hero. Those turtles are dangerous. I didn't sign on to hunt monsters._

***

The procession to the farmhouse was, as always, an effort in organized chaos. Since everyone agreed it would be extremely unsafe for April to try to return to her apartment to pick up her VW bus, the thirteen occupants of the Lair divided themselves between the Battle Shell and Gene and Marjory's ancient van.

The four turtles and the two injured humans, as well as Beverly, April and Austin piled into the big truck with Klunk tucked into his carrying case, while Gene, Marjory, Splinter and Ann took the sugar-gliders and Bailey, as well as the majority of luggage and supplies, in the smaller van.

Leatherhead made a trip to the Lair to see them off. "Travel safely, my friends," he said.

"Are you sure you won't come with us, LH?" asked Donatello hopefully. "You know you'd be welcome."

"No, my friend." The crocodilian shook his head with what passed for a smile. "I have experiments here I can not leave."

He leaned closer to speak privately to the purple-banded turtle.

"Do not worry, Donatello. Austin's pregnancy is progressing normally. I'm sure she'll be fine in your care."

"I'd feel better if you were with us, LH," said Don.

"I am only a phone-call away," said Leatherhead, waving the shell-cell Don had made specially to accommodate his unwieldy claws. Don nodded reluctantly, shaking Leatherhead's massive hand, and climbed into the Battle Shell with his patients.

"Are we all set?" Leo looked over the assembled passengers. He got a couple half-hearted waves and a 'Yeah, Fearless, whatever,' from his hot-headed brother.

"Move over, Leo," said Don firmly. "I'm driving."

"What? Are you sure?" Leo looked at his brother, surprised. He'd thought Don would want to tend to their wounded.

"Bev's got things under control," said Don. He looked at Leo pointedly. "Besides, you can't have gotten more than a couple hour's sleep last night. Sit. Relax."

"Ok," said Leo. He sank back into the passenger seat. More to distract himself from his thoughts than deep interest, he drew the book Gene had given him from a pouch in his belt and settled into the seat to read.

"_A record of the genealogy of Jesus Christ the son of David, the son of Abraham…" _Leonardo frowned over the list of difficult names and skipped ahead. He settled in to read the story, fascinated in spite of himself by the tale of a human son being born of God.

"What're you reading, Bro?" asked Don.

"Gene gave it to me," said Leo, glancing at his brother. "It's a Bible."

"Really? If you don't mind, I'd like to read it when you're done. It's one classic I've never read."

"Sure thing, Don."

_I won't be needing it._

_***  
_

The arrival at the farmhouse startled Leo. He looked up from the book, blinking._ Shell, has it been hours already?_ Reluctantly, he closed the book. _Well, at least now I can ask Gene about some of this. What does it mean, "I desire mercy, not sacrifice?" _

Mikey burst out of the Battle Shell with a whoop, shattering Leonardo's thoughts. Bailey ran in circles, barking, before taking off into the woods after some small forest creature, Michelangelo in hot pursuit. Even Raph perked up, gathering his crutches and insisting on maneuvering himself up the rickety stairs and into the house. Casey, with his shoulder carefully bandaged, tottered not far behind. April followed protectively.

Gene, Marjory and the girls helped carry in the luggage while Leonardo assisted Sierra. She insisted on hopping along on her uninjured ankle, though she had to lean heavily on Leonardo. He kept his arm firmly around her waist, keeping her upright as they made their way up the stairs and into the house.

"Why can't I use crutches like Raphael?" she grumbled.

"Your ribs and arm," said Leo succinctly with a grin. "It's ok, I don't mind helping you," he added.

Sierra glanced up at him with a smile. "Thanks," she said.

Raph, overhearing, chuckled, and Leo felt heat creep into his cheeks. He carefully avoided his brother's smirking gaze as he helped the woman settle into one of the overstuffed arm-chairs in the living room. Sierra laid her head back with a sigh.

"It really is peaceful here," she said. "You can feel it… it's just something about this house."

"Is Mike gonna fix somet'in ta eat soon, Leo? 'm starvin'," remarked Raphael.

Leonardo nodded. "I'll ask him, Raph," he said. "He should be back from chasing Bailey around by now."

"Nah, Fearless, I'll check an' see if he's back," said Raphael. "I can't sit no more." He struggled to his feet, using the crutches to heave himself up. He grinned. "I'm gettin' pretty good at these t'ings."

Leo just shook his head, watching his brother maneuver out of the room. He hesitated a moment, glancing at Sierra. Her eyes were closed, her breathing even and peaceful. He got to his feet and slipped out of the room.

"Hey, Raph," said Leo, catching up with the red-banded turtle in the kitchen. Mike was nowhere to be seen.

"Yeah, Leo, what's up?"

Leonardo shifted. He wanted to talk to his brother, but he felt uneasy now that it came to the point. "I just wondered… how you're feeling," he said finally.

"'m fine, Leo." Raphael snagged a can of soda from the refrigerator and stretched to set it on the table before swinging over on his crutches and lowering himself into a chair. He popped the soda open and took a swig, but his eyes never left Leonardo's face. "How're _you_?"

Leo sighed, sinking into the chair across from his brother.

"When did ya plan on talkin' about it?" asked Raph almost gently.

"What, no 'I told you so'? No snide remarks?" asked Leonardo. He looked into his brother's amber gaze, searching.

Raph shook his head. "Do ya really t'ink dat little o' me?" he asked quietly. "Leo, yer my _brother_. Yer hurtin' right now. I ain't gonna kick ya while yer down."

"I'm sorry, Raph. You're right." Leonardo sighed. "I… I just... I really messed up, didn't I?"

"Yeah. Ya look naked wit'out 'em."

Leonardo didn't have to ask his brother what he meant. The lightness lay on his shell, a constant reminder of what was missing. He felt as though he'd misplaced a limb.

"When're ya gonna ask Splinter fer 'em back?" asked Raphael.

"I… I can't." _First Splinter and now you? _Leo looked away. "Not yet."

"Leo, ya got ta quit doin' dis ta yerself," Raphael growled, his amber eyes flashing.

"I know Don told you what happened. Raph, I killed a man," said Leonardo quietly. He lifted his head with an effort to meet his brother's burning gaze. "On purpose. Not… not in battle. Not even in a rage. I just… killed him."

Raphael sighed. "Leo. I ain't gonna try an' pretend I know what was goin' t'rough yer head in dat cell." He shook his head. "I sure as I'm sittin' here ain't gonna tell ya I woulda done da same, or dat I woulda done somet'in different. Nobody knows but _you_, an' nobody can really understand. Not even Splintah. But I will tall ya one t'ing. I _know_ you."

He stared into Leo's eyes. "I know you, an' I know yer da most _honorable_ damn person I ever met. Ya make me crazy wit' it sometimes, Fearless. Don't do dis ta yerself. Ya can't change da past. Yer gonna hafta accept ya ain't perfect, an' move on. Leo. Ya made a mistake, I _get _dat. But ya gotta find a way ta live wit' it. Don't you _dare_ go t'inkin' about some _honorable_ way out. Leo, ya know what Sensei always said. There ain't no honor in death."

Tears filled Leonardo's eyes. He ducked his head to hide them.

_Just when I thought I had Raph figured out_, he thought. _He starts quoting Splinter._

"I know, Raph." He forced the words out past the lump in his throat.

"Yer gonna be ok, Bro," said Raph. "Jus' give yerself some time."

"Yeah, I guess." Leonardo drew in a deep breath. He got up and fetched a soda from the 'fridge, more to give himself a moment than out of any real thirst. _There is no honor in death... but how can I live with this? Blood must be answered for.  
_

"Ya gotta promise me, Fearless," said Raph.

Leo sat at the table and cracked the top.

"Promise you what, Raph?" _I'm not making any promises. Not until I talk to Splinter._

"Dat yer gonna stick aroun'," said Raphael seriously. His amber eyes burned into Leonardo's. "I want ya in my weddin'."

"What?" Leo almost dropped the can.

"I asked Ann ta marry me."

"What? When?" Leo's shocked grin felt wide enough to split his face.

"Dis mornin'. 'Fore we left."

"Raph, that's… that's amazing! Congratulations!"

"T'anks." Raph shifted in his chair. "I jus' hope I can figure out how ta do da wedding an' stuff, ya know? I wanna get her a nice ring an' all."

"Well, maybe you can find a job when we get back. You know, building maintenance or something," said Leo. "We've done it before."

"Yeah," said Raphael with a slow grin. "Remember dat time Don was fixin' da vent fan in da roof o' dat building an' da Super showed up?"

Leonardo snickered at the memory. "The guy was all sorts of ticked off when Don wouldn't come down to talk to him."

"Yeah." Raph shook his head. "I t'ought Don was caught fer sure. Good t'ing dat Super was too fat ta climb up da ladder. I t'ought I was gonna hafta knock him out so Donny could get outta there."

Leo laughed. He sat back in the chair, basking in the shared moment with his brother.

_How can everything seem so normal?_ he thought as the black slug of guilt flexed its muscles and swelled another notch in his chest._ I need to be strong enough for them, for my family. Maybe Raph has a point. Still, I have to make sure it never happens again. Even if it means hanging up my swords forever._


	24. Chapter 24 Joy

**A/N: I am told that I remind you too often of the happy ending to come. So I won't.  
(But it will)  


* * *

**_Chapter 24 -Joy-  
~~~_

Hamato Austin lay back on the narrow bed, resting against Michelangelo's plastron as if he were a pillow, his arms wrapped comfortably around her. She sighed, contented.

"I'm glad we snuck off," she said softly.

The bed creaked as he shifted his weight. A whippoorwill sang it's warbling song outside.

"Yeah. I love it here. Besides, the Lair was getting a little crowded," he said lazily.

"It's going to get more crowded," said Austin with a smile, laying her hands over her stomach. She had a sudden sensation under her hand, almost as if bubbles were popping inside her abdomen.

"Oh!" she cried out in surprise.

"What? What's wrong?" asked Michelangelo. He sat up, alarmed, his arms tightening instinctively around her.

"I… I'm not sure," she whispered. "I think the baby just… moved."

"You felt it?"

"Yeah. I did." Tears slid down Austin's face.

Mike leaned forward, laying his hand over her stomach. Austin covered his hand with both of hers. A tear slid down and splashed on his arm.

"Hey," he whispered, shifting to one side, turning so he could wrap his arms around her waist.

Austin buried her face in his neck, clinging to him. Sobs shook her.

"Hey, Austin, it's ok," he whispered. His hand moved gently over her back, calming, soothing. "What's wrong?"

"N…nothing," she whispered, her voice hitching on sobs. "I'm… I'm just so… h… happy!"

Michelangelo drew her closer, sheltering her in his arms and just let her cry.

***

Donatello prodded Casey's shoulder gently, checking the stitches.

"You won't be able to swing a baseball bat for a while, Casey," he said sternly, but his gaze met April's. "At least a month," he told her.

"I'll make sure, Don, thanks," said April. Her face was drawn. New lines showed around her mouth and her brow seemed to have taken on a permanent crease from the tension she'd suffered since Casey's injury.

"Aw, Don, a _month?_" whined Casey. "I can't sit aroun' fer a month!"

"You and Raph can keep each other company," said Donatello.

"What'm I gonna do fer a _month_?" grumbled Casey again.

"I could always get Bev to deal with you," threatened Don.

Casey grimaced. "Oh, all right," he grouched.

Don smiled. Whenever one of his patients was uncooperative, he had a secret weapon in his wife. Growing up with her disturbed older brother had given Bev an arsenal of tricks, some of them strikingly dirty.

The last time Leonardo was injured, she'd taken his katanas captive. She refused to return the blades until he promised to stay in bed until Donatello pronounced him fit for training once more. It took weeks for Leo to stop sleeping with his hand on the hilts so she couldn't sneak them out of his room again, even after his prescribed time of bed-rest was up. Don smiled at the memory.

"I'll just leave you two alone," he said with a quick smile for April. She grinned back.

"Thanks, Donny. We appreciate it," she said.

"_We _appreciate you guys letting us stay here," he told her.

"You're family, Don," said April.

"Well… our family's gotten a lot bigger these past few years," said Don.

April nodded. "I'm so happy for you guys."

"Thanks, April," said Don. "That means a lot to me."

"Why dontcha go get some rest, Donny?" said Casey, shattering the warm moment of understanding between the friends. "Ya look like hell."

"Thanks, Casey," muttered Don.

April giggled. "Go, Don. Your wife is probably missing you," she said. "You two have been working non-stop."

"Bev's gone to take a nap," said Don. A jaw-cracking yawn overtook him. "Maybe I will go and join her."

Casey snickered, and Don shot him an irritated look. He left the room without acknowledging the man's smirk. He smiled when he heard a distinct _smack_ behind him and Casey's muffled protest.

***

"Bev?"

"Hey, Romeo." Beverly's blue eyes fluttered open as Don came into the small room they were sharing. "How's everyone doing? Do you need me to come help with something? Do I need to sit on CJ?"

Don chuckled softly. "No, Casey's fine," he said, smiling at the nickname Bev had given the vigilante. "April's got him under control for the moment."

"Good. I'm beat," said Bev, lying back on the bed. "Com'on over."

Donatello complied willingly. Beverly moved over to make room, snuggling into his embrace as he joined her in the bed.

"Mmmm, you smell good," he whispered, nuzzling her hair.

Beverly snorted. "I probably smell like sweat," she whispered. "I barely had time to wash my hair before the shower conked out."

"The shower broke?"

"Well, kind of," Bev tipped her head back to press her lips against the bottom of Don's jaw, making his breathing catch. "I think the pressure switch might need to be adjusted."

"Oh shell," he muttered, shifting to rise.

"Leave it, Donny," she whispered against his skin. "It can wait."

"With thirteen of us staying here?" Despite his protest, he relaxed onto the bed, letting Beverly's gentle caresses play over his shoulder.

"Don't _worry_, Don. Stay. Rest." She edged up a bit, pressing her lips to his face, trailing kisses along his jaw. Donatello shivered.

"Ok," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her closer.

"You're so tense." She shifted, moving her hands to his shoulders. Bev's eyes widened as she felt his muscles. "Donny…" She shifted over, away from him.

Don tried to hold on, but she planted her hands firmly on his plastron, pushing herself out of the embrace.

"Lay down," she instructed firmly.

Donatello sighed, knowing it was no use arguing with that tone. He rolled onto his plastron. Bev leaned back, shifting to her knees. She lay across his carapace, reaching to massage his muscles. He squirmed a little, getting more comfortable under her weight. Bev kneaded his shoulders, working out the tension until his breathing was slow and even.

"You're so tense," she whispered. "Relax, Donny-san."

Don smiled against the pillow. She'd picked up the honorific from Austin, but it was very different coming from Bev. He was the only one she called san, and she only used it when they were alone. "Are you still worried about Leonardo?" she asked.

"Yeah… well… I don't know." He sighed. "He was… Bev, I've never seen him like that. Ever. It was… scary."

"What made him do that? Leonardo's the most level-headed person I know. Besides maybe you," she said softly.

"I don't know." Don frowned, laying his forehead against his arm to ease the tension he could feel drawing in his neck. "That's the worst part. I mean, Leo's predictable. I can always tell what he's going to do in any given situation. This was just so… out of character. If it was Raph, I could almost understand it, you know? But Leo?"

"Do you think…" Beverly trailed off.

"What?" Don turned his head to try and look at her, but she was too far behind him.

"Do you think he has feelings for Sierra?" she asked.

"What? Leo? No…" Donatello pushed on the bed, trying to roll to his side to face his wife, but she shifted her weight, pinning him and kept rubbing his shoulders.

"Relax," she said firmly.

Don sighed, settling back against the bedding. Her massages felt _so_ good.

"I guess I hadn't considered it. I mean, it's _Leo_," he said finally. "He's always been so focused, so… single-minded. He's only just met her."

"That's true," she said softly. "But Donny, have you noticed how they are together? The way she reached for him, when we were treating her wounds? The way he watches her?"

"I had my hands full with the stitches," admitted Donatello. "I didn't really notice much else."

"Well, I was talking to them when you and Mike went to get Casey," said Beverly softly. "Don, he was just sitting with her, talking to her. He looks at her… the way Mikey looks at Austin when she's mad at him."

"Oh geez," said Don, chuckling softly. "He does have it bad, doesn't he?"

"Do you think… Do you think she feels the same way?"

"I don't know," said Donatello quietly. "It's impossible to tell. And it's not as if Leo's the type to… well, to pursue anything. He'd probably think it was unfair to her. Or to our clan, or both. He's always putting the family before his own needs."

"Maybe that's the answer," said Beverly softly. "Maybe he's been putting the clan first for so long, he lost something of himself. Don, he _needs_ someone."

"He has us," protested Don.

"Donny. It's not the same and you know it," said Beverly. Don could hear the smile in her voice. "You guys are brothers, nothing can ever change that. But can you imagine Mike without Austin? Or Raph without Ann?"

"Or me without you…" he whispered. "I understand. You're right. It just never occurred to me that Leo'd want… I mean, he's always been the 'Fearless Leader'. He's always been so strong, so…"

"So much your big brother?" she finished softly.

"Yeah, I guess so." Don sighed deeply. He lifted himself up and this time didn't let Bev push him back down to the bed. He twisted under her so that she slid off his carapace and landed with a grunt on the bed next to him.

"Sorry," he said, turning to smile into her eyes. He gathered her up in his arms, drawing her close. She only stiffened for a moment before cuddling against him with a sigh.

"Will you try to rest now?" she asked, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

"For a little while," said Don softly "I really should check Sierra's side again, to make sure the trip didn't open those stitches at all…"

"I'm sure they're fine," said Beverly, tightening her hold as if to stop him from dashing off. "She had a good surgeon, after all."

"I don't want her taking any chances on infection," said Don. His voice was already blurring with sleepiness. "And I'll have to fix that pressure switch…"

"Hush. Rest," scolded Beverly gently.

"Yeah…" Don's eyes slid closed.

All was peace for almost an hour. Beverly was dozing, wrapped up firmly in her husband's arms. When the door burst open, Don fell off the bed with a resounding _thud_. He rolled to his feet in an instant, taking a defensive crouch. Bev noticed how he took a position to shield her from the intruder, even in his startled-awake, half-asleep state. She glanced toward the door with annoyance.

"Mikey, what are you _doing?_" she snapped. "We were resting."

"It's Austin!" The hyper young turtle's voice cracked with anxiety. "You've gotta come _now,_ Donny. She's… she's…" He choked, a sob cutting off his ability to speak.

"Calm down, Mike, what's wrong?" Donatello straightened, crossing the room and taking his brother by the arm.

Tears slid down Michelangelo's cheeks. He was pale, and Beverly saw his hands tremble as he clutched at his brother's wrists, tugging him toward the door.

"Don, come on," Mikey insisted. "We've gotta get her to a hospital _now._ Don, she's… she's bleeding."


	25. Chapter 25 Believe

**A/N: _Itoshii_ means "dearest" or "beloved". _  
Ani_ means "(big) brother".  


* * *

**_Chapter 25 -Believe-  
~~~_

Sierra was jolted awake by terse voices rising and falling, first quietly speaking upstairs, then rising as the speakers moved to the lower floor of the farm-house.

"Mike, you _can't_ come." Beverly's voice was firm, with the determination of someone tiring of an argument. "It's not _safe._ It's best if I go alone with her."

"Bev, you know we can't let you two go by yourselves…" Donatello broke in.

"Don, we've been _over _this," insisted Beverly, her tone sharp. "You guys can't go back to the city. Austin and I will be inconspicuous. We can get to LH more easily alone."

"Bev…"

"Don, _ani,_ stop." Austin's voice was very quiet, but easily carried over the others. "Beverly is right."

"Austin…"

"Donatello. Michelangelo. Enough."

Sierra turned to look over the back of the couch at the little group coming down the stairs. Splinter stood at the base, watching the others descend. Both hands were on his walking stick, planted on the floor in front of him.

"Father," Donatello began.

Splinter's tail moved across the floor. "No, my son. Beverly is right. This plan is the safest. There is no need for all of us to return to the city."

"At least let me go," pleaded Michelangelo. "Austin needs me."

"Mikey, I'll be fine," said Austin quietly. Sierra saw her take the orange-banded turtle's hands in her own. "I'd only be worrying about you if you came with us. Please. I'll be all right. _We_'ll be all right."

Michelangelo's arms went around the woman's waist. He nuzzled her hair, whispering something Sierra couldn't make out. Tears slid down his cheeks, splashing on his wife.

"It'll be all right, _itoshii_. We will be all right," said Austin softly. She lifted her head, pressing her lips against his face. "I love you."

"I love you too, Princess," said Michelangelo huskily.

Beverly took Austin's arm, and Michelangelo released her reluctantly. Sierra watched as he disappeared into the kitchen. She heard the back door slam.

"Donatello," said Splinter quietly.

"_Hai_, Sensei," replied Donatello immediately. "I'll go after him."

"Sensei, are you _sure _one of us shouldn't go with the girls?" asked Leonardo.

"Yes, Leonardo. They should leave as soon as possible," replied Splinter. "There is no more time for discussion, my son. This is a time for action."

"Wait. I'll go with them." Marjory Spencer bustled into the room. A small bag was tucked under her arm. "Leonardo, Splinter. Don't worry. Austin will be fine. I'll drive, so that Beverly can tend to her."

"Are you sure, Mrs. Spencer?" asked Leonardo quietly. "They're going back underground, to Leatherhead."

"I know," said Marjory. "Don't worry, Leonardo. I won't be in the way."

"It's really up to Bev," said Leonardo uncertainly.

"It's the Spencer's van," replied Beverly, glancing over her shoulder from half-way to the door. "Marjory's more familiar with it than I am. And I'll appreciate the second set of hands. Let's go, Marjory."

The two women hurried Austin out the front door. Gene, Splinter and Leonardo followed them out. Soon Sierra heard the sound of the Spencer's van driving away.

_They didn't leave me here alone, did they? But Gene didn't say he was going, just Marjory…_ Sierra fought down the panic that rose in her chest. _I'm with friends. Leonardo and his brothers have been nothing but kind. I'll be fine with them, even if Gene has gone back to the city. _

Despite her brave self-talk, Sierra was relieved when Gene Spencer came back inside, followed by Leonardo and Splinter.

"What are her chances?" Gene was asking.

"I don't know." Leonardo sounded frustrated, angry. "Don and Bev are the experts and this is new even for them. We didn't think… I mean, with the mutation and all…" Sierra saw his dark eyes flash with worry and grief as he met Gene's gaze. Suddenly Leonardo looked very young.

"We weren't sure we could even have an _opportunity_ to have children. But to have a pregnancy come this far, and then…" Sierra saw the muscles in his throat move as he swallowed. "Mikey must be devastated."

Gene reached out, clasping Leonardo's shoulder. "Don't lose hope," he advised quietly. "She hasn't lost the baby yet."

Leonardo nodded. "I'm going to go see if Don needs help."

Gene walked over and sat down in an armchair near Sierra as Leonardo disappeared in the direction of the back door.

"Gene, what's going on?" asked Sierra anxiously. "Where are the girls going?"

"Austin… Austin started spotting," said Gene softly. "They're worried about the baby, understandably. Marjory and Beverly are taking her back to the city, to see… a friend." He glanced at Sierra. "You didn't meet him, did you?"

"Leatherhead, is that what they called him?" asked Sierra. "No. I heard him talking when they had that dinner, but I was half out of it."

"He's… quite an interesting person," said Gene with a smile.

"Can he help?" asked Sierra.

"I hope so," answered Gene. "He's brilliant. As smart as Donatello at least. I'd say he's their best hope."

Sierra laid her head against the back of the couch, drawing slow breaths. She couldn't breathe deeply because of her ribs, but her side felt as if it were on fire and her ankle and arm ached abominably.

"Do you want me to ask Donatello for another codeine?" asked Gene.

"What?" Sierra lifted her head, regretting the movement almost instantly. "No, I'm fine," she lied, a thin sheen of sweat breaking out on her brow.

"Sierra, you're _not_ fine," scolded Gene gently.

"How come yer scared ta take da pills Don gives ya?" A rough voice broke in.

Raphael thumped his way around the end of the couch, sinking heavily into the other armchair. He laid his crutches aside and lifted the foot rest, elevating his casted leg. He pinned Sierra with burning amber eyes.

"I just… don't like to take a lot of pills," said Sierra warily.

"I can understand dat," said Raphael. Sierra heard the chair creak as he shifted.

"How's the leg?" asked Gene.

"It itches," grumbled Raph.

"Good. That means it's healing," said Gene.

The look Raphael gave the pastor made Sierra laugh. He glanced at her, startled, and a ghost of a grin passed over his face.

"It'd better heal soon," grumbled Raphael. "I'm sicka dis cast already."

"You don't like staying still much, do you?" she asked, glancing over shyly at the red-banded turtle.

"You got dat right," replied Raphael with a scowl. "All dis sittin' around… it's makin' me crazy. 'Specially now. We shouldn'ta let da girls go alone," he grumbled.

"Raph, you know it's the only way," said Leonardo, coming back in and overhearing.

"Whatevah, Fearless," growled Raph. He kicked the footrest down with his good leg and forced himself up, leaning on the crutches. "I'm goin' out fer a walk."

"Raph…"

"Can it, Fearless," said Raphael rudely. "I'm jus' goin' out in da yard." He swung away on the crutches, ignoring Leonardo's irritated glare.

Leo sighed. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his face in his palms. "Mikey won't even talk to us. What are we going to do?" he whispered.

Sierra leaned over instinctively, wrapping an arm around the turtle's muscular shoulders.

"Lord," she whispered. "Cover this family with Your mercy. Keep Austin safe. Please protect her, _Abba_, and protect this child. Bring your peace to them… to Leonardo."

Leo sat, stiff and tense under her arm. When he turned toward her, his eyes were dark with shock.

"What…"

"I'm sorry." Sierra let her arm drop away, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "I… I'm so used to praying for my friends… I should've asked if you'd mind."

"No, no it's ok," said Leonardo slowly. "I just…" He shook his head. "What's '_Abba'_ mean?"

"It means…"

"It's Aramaic for _Daddy_," Donatello broke into the conversation, padding silently across the room toward them.

Sierra looked over the back of the couch at him, smiling. "That's right," she said softly. "It literally translates to 'Daddy'."

"And… you were… praying?" Leonardo asked slowly.

"Yes."

"To your father?"

"In a sense." Sierra smiled, seeing Leonardo's confusion. "I believe God is our father, in the sense that He is the creator of the universe, yes. And… on a more personal level, yes I believe He wants a relationship with us."

Leonardo shook his head, looking more confused than ever.

"From what I'm reading in the book you gave me, you believe in a literal… being. God, right?" He looked from Sierra to Gene and back again.

"Yes," said Gene firmly.

Leonardo nodded, considering. "That… makes sense, I guess," he said slowly.

Donatello leaned against the back of the couch. "People have personified the spiritual for centuries," he said. "It makes them feel closer to the universe… makes things they can't understand seem less… frightening."

"Donatello," said Gene with a smile. "Is it possible that there has always been a Personality and people have been discovering it for centuries? After all, doesn't science work to discover what exists?"

"That's true," said Don thoughtfully. "It's certainly an interesting theory, if a difficult one to quantify." He came around the couch and sat down.

"How's Michelangelo?" asked Sierra.

"Not great," said Don. "He's worried about Austin. He says he wants to be alone for a while."

"You guys are a strong family," said Sierra quietly. "He and Austin obviously love each other."

"You're right," said Leonardo. He sighed. "I just hope it's enough."


	26. Chapter 26 Taken

**A/N: Another short chap.  
Nope. Still not saying it.  


* * *

**_Chapter 26 -Taken-  
~~~_

Leatherhead was not prone to pacing. For one thing, his limited space made it a rather unsatisfying activity. Due to his bulk, turns and impatient movements of his tail were difficult maneuvers, which tended to aggravate his frustration rather than alleviating it.

_Donatello, my friend,_ he thought ruefully, narrowly missing a small table as he swung around to stalk to the other end of his lab, _Your communication has left me most unsettled. Spotting… I am no obstetrician. My knowledge, like yours, is limited. If this is more than a simple infection, I may not be able to help your brother's wife. You are, I fear, pinning far too much hope on my meager research. Perhaps the best thing I can do is send the girl to a human hospital… and yet how can I risk your secret? Our initial testing seems to indicate the child may take after its father. The lives of your family could be in danger! No… even if she loses the child, I cannot risk such a course of action. I will have to help her as best I can here. I only hope I do not fail you. _

_***_

"How are you doing, Austin?" Beverly leaned over to touch Austin's leg.

"I miss Michelangelo," admitted the girl. She was pale, sweating in the warm van.

"I know, but it's safer this way. I don't want any of the boys within a hundred miles of Bishop and his goons," said Beverly.

"Of course," said Austin. She managed a weak, grim smile.

"Who is this Bishop?" asked Marjory, glancing in the rear-view mirror at the girls.

"He's the head of a government agency called the Earth Protection Force," answered Austin. "He's a psychopath. He _hunts_ them. He… tried to dissect Michelangelo once."

"He _what?_" Marjory went several shades paler. "He's a lunatic!"

"Yes, which is why Mike and the others couldn't come," said Beverly. "They're vulnerable to being spotted in a vehicle. We couldn't take the risk."

Austin nodded. "We've got to keep them safe," she whispered. Her hand lay protectively over her abdomen.

"Austin, you're going to be ok. You're _both_ going to be ok," said Beverly.

"I can't lose this baby, Bev. I _can't._" whispered Austin. "I… I just decided on a name… if it's a boy. I want to name him _Kouki_."

"That's beautiful, Austin," said Beverly gently. "What does it mean?"

"Roughly translated, it means 'Hope'," Austin replied. "And for his middle name, Yoshi, after Splinter. _Hamato Kouki Yoshi_. I didn't even tell Mike yet…" Tears rolled down her cheeks.

Beverly reached over and took her hand.

"Austin. You are _not_ going to lose the baby. Everything's going to be ok, you'll see."

"What could cause bleeding?" asked Austin, sniffing.

Beverly shook her head. "There are several things," she said slowly. "You're only in the first trimester, Austin. A little spotting, like you saw, is usually considered normal."

"Are you sure?"

Beverly turned side-ways in the seat to face Austin. She took her hands and looked into her face, meeting her gaze steadily. "Austin. I'm _sure._ We're just being cautious because the mutation might complicate your pregnancy."

Austin sniffed. Her chin wobbled, but she nodded.

"I believe you," she said softly.

Beverly leaned forward, wrapping her arms around the other girl's shoulders. Austin melted against her friend, clinging. Tears slid down Beverly's cheeks. It wasn't like Austin to get emotional.

Marjory watched the road, but her lips moved in silent prayer.

***

John Bishop was having a most frustrating day. His two agents had reported in, and no activity had been recorded at April O'Neil-Jones home or place of business. The agent who'd been injured had filed a workman's comp claim.

And now… now it seemed that the blunder had caused his prey to disappear off the face of the earth… at least from the great city of New York.

He slammed his fist down on the mahogany desk. Even yelling at his secretary and firing the unfortunate agent who'd initiated the unauthorized attempt on the O'Neil woman hadn't helped his mood.

_Impatience has cost us, but I must find this woman,_ he thought. _Before the abomination growing in her comes to be. I must find her and study the genetics. The possibilities! The knowledge that could be gleaned from studying such a pregnancy…_

He shook his head, frustrated. No study could move forward without a subject. No DNA profiling, no examination of the fetus… nothing, until the woman was brought in. He swore. It seemed that the accursed turtles were going to best him yet again. Well, not if he could help it.

The O'Neil woman was a known link to the terrapin mutants, which was why a glory-hungry soldier had made an attempt at bringing her in. The ambush had failed, but upon consideration, Bishop had decided the effort should not be wasted. She had to return to her apartment _sometime._ He would win this little battle of patience.

_Everyone, after all, has a price,_ he thought grimly. _The O'Neil woman _will_ help us retrieve the creatures._

John's head snapped up as Agent Grisham entered the room.

"What is it?" he growled.

The agent stood stoic, unafraid of his superior's temper. He hadn't been involved with the failed mission. "News, Sir."

"What?" demanded Bishop impatiently.

"A van has been spotted entering the city. It was picked up on our feed. An intern running an image search spotted the subject. She's a passenger in this van."

"Do we have any information on the registration?" snapped Bishop. If the girl had slipped past his agents…

"Yes, Sir. It's registered to a Pastor Gene Spencer," intoned the agent calmly. The faintest smirk marred his calm demeanor.

"Hmm. Perhaps the girl has repented of her foolish liaison with the creature," mused Bishop. "Intercept the vehicle."

"We have units in place to do so, Sir," said the agent. The smirk showed for an instant. The man had done well and he knew it.

"If this results in a capture, I'll be putting you in for a promotion," said Bishop with an oily smile.

The man bent his head in acknowledgment. "Thank you, Sir. What are your orders regarding the subject?"

"She is to be undamaged," said Bishop firmly. "The utmost care must be used in handling her. We would not, after all," Bishop smiled again, a small, cold grin. "Wish to cause harm to the unborn child."

"Very good, Sir." The agent's eyes never flickered. He turned on his heel and left the room.

John Bishop sank down into his leather chair, resting his elbows on the desk and forming a steeple with his fingers.

_Soon,_ he thought. _Soon I will have the subject within my grasp. Soon all their secrets will be revealed under my microscope._

It was turning out to be a good day, he reflected. A very good day indeed.

***

Marjory Spencer drove slowly through the streets of the city, following Beverly's terse directions. They seemed to be taking a rather round-about route, but Marjory understood the girls' insistence on driving around a bit before they arrived at their destination. With someone hunting the turtles, they could take no chances on leading an enemy to Leatherhead's lair.

She took another turn, and stopped short, drawing shouts of protest from her passengers. Two black SUVs blocked the entire street. Marjory had not dealt with much intrigue in her life, but in that instant, she instinctively rammed the van into reverse and spun around in a stunt-driver worthy turn, rocketing down the road in the opposite direction.

She hadn't counted on the enemy being so clever, or being prepared for her attempt. Two more SUVs shot out of alleys ahead of them, blocking their escape. Several more vehicles roared up even as she shifted gears again, cursing under her breath, effectively boxing them in.

She heard Beverly swear and Austin's gasping sobs. A rage rose up in the pastor's wife. She flung the door open and stalked toward the nearest vehicle. A man in a black suit stepped out, flashing a badge.

"Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to step back into your vehicle," he commanded authoritatively.

"No, I will _not,_" snapped Marjory. "I demand to know what on earth is going on here! Why are you harassing innocent women? Just who do you think you _are_, anyway?"

"Ma'am, you are going to have to return to your vehicle," the man insisted, advancing menacingly.

Marjory's reply was cut off by a scream from the van. She spun, and raced around to the other side in time to see a woman being dragged from the van and bundled into one of the black trucks. Marjory ran toward the vehicle, but it was too late. It sped off. All the trucks roared to life, disappearing into the back alleys as if they were motorized ninja, leaving Marjory to stand, gaping after them, tears of rage and frustration pouring down her cheeks. Hearing a gasping cry, she turned and hurried to the van, leaping into the back and wrapping her arms around her remaining passenger.

"They… they took her…" the girl sobbed, collapsing against the older woman. "I tried… they just grabbed her… what are we going to do? What will we tell him…"

"We're going to go and find your friend Leatherhead. We're going to call your husbands and tell them what's going on," said Marjory firmly. "And we're going to pray."


	27. Chapter 27 News

_Chapter 27 -News-  
~~~_

Michelangelo shifted his shell, trying to remove his weight from the twig that seemed intent on poking him in the bottom. He leaned back against the tree, resting his head against the cool, rough bark. Tears kept tracing down his cheeks, stinging his eyes and wetting his mask. Finally he reached up and slipped the fabric up and off.

_Oh Austin… I wish you'd have let me come with you_, he thought. _This ain't fair. It'd be bad enough to lose the baby, but what about _you_? Donny said sometimes pregnancies are dangerous for the mom, too. What if… what if my baby kills you?_

A hitching sob caught painfully in his throat. Suddenly Michelangelo couldn't sit still another moment. He flipped to his feet in one fluid motion and started pacing off through the trees, with no particular destination in mind, but feeling he'd jump out of his skin if he sat still another moment.

"Mikey! Hey, Mike, wait up." Raphael's voice startled him. For a moment, he was tempted to pretend he hadn't heard and take off. He wanted to be alone right now, but he knew it would only frustrate Raphael. Being on crutches made Raph crankier than usual.

Mike turned to face his brother. "What, Raph?"

"Hey, Mike. I jus' wanted ta talk to ya. How're ya doin', Bro?"

"Donny and Leo already talked to me," said Mike, forcing a smile. "Talking isn't making it better, Raph."

"I know." Raph leaned on his crutch, reaching with one hand to touch his brother's shell in an uncharacteristically affectionate gesture. "She's gonna be ok, Mikey."

"How do you _know_?" Mike hadn't meant to shout, but the words poured forth almost against his will. "How do you _know_ she'll be ok?"

"I don't," said Raph, shaking his head. "Not really. Not that I can _promise_. But Austin's a tough girl, Mike. She's a fighter."

"What if she's _not_ ok, Raphy?" Michelangelo faced his brother, his blue eyes blazing. "What if…"

"Mike. Ya can't t'ink dat way," said Raph gruffly.

"I can't help it." Tension showed in every line of Mikey's stance. "I can't help it Raph."

"Ya've gotta, Mike. Do ya believe in yer girl or not?"

Mikey's sharply indrawn breath hissed through his teeth. He turned away, stalking off a few paces before he stopped. His shoulders shook.

"Come on, Mikey. Let's go back ta da house," said Raph. "Da crutches are hurtin' my arms."

A startled chuckle came from the orange-banded turtle. He turned back to face his brother.

"Do I need to carry you home, Raphy?" he asked innocently.

Raph smirked. "I'd love ta see ya try, Mike," he shot back.

Michelangelo shook his head. "You eat too many pizzas, dude."

"Keep talkin', an' ya won't be able ta eat pizza after I knock yer teeth down yer throat," growled Raphael.

Michelangelo grinned, sorting out the affection that underpinned the threats. They made their way slowly back toward the farmhouse

***

Splinter drew deep, calming breaths. He hadn't let his distress over Austin's condition show in front of his family and their guests, but he was unsettled. Michelangelo's confusion, fear and flight were harder to bear even than the possibility of losing the life growing within his daughter-in-law.

_He loves her so deeply_, thought Splinter with a sigh. _To hold the chance of new life, only to have it snatched away would be cruel indeed. _

He prayed in his quiet way, to his ancestors, but the only response was silence. Splinter took another deep breath. There seemed to be a disturbance in the very air around him. He let the breath out, quieting his mind, allowing the ebb and flow of his family to reach him. He allowed each of their essences to come to him, like scents on the breeze. Raphael's spirit seemed calm. Coming to the farmhouse eased some of the jangle that the city brought out in Splinter's passionate son. Whether it was the quiet of nature, or the lack of stimulation, Raphael seemed to find a peace here he could not accomplish in the city.

Splinter sighed. He knew the peace was temporary. Raph could not stay in one place for long. Soon boredom would lead to frustration. The brief escape was soothing for Raphael, but he would always return to the city he loved.

Donatello's essence felt only slightly anxious, the constant worry for his brothers buzzing just beneath the surface of his well-ordered mind. Splinter was certain his third son was well occupied with caring for the patients who remained at the farmhouse.

Michelangelo… Splinter's heart constricted a little as his son's anguish came clearly through the spiritual connection, like a muffled sob. Peace and strength also flowed like an after-thought. Splinter smiled. He knew Michelangelo's worry was being soothed by his seemingly eternal optimism. The youngest turtle would survive this crisis as he had many in the past. Splinter remembered the nightmares Mikey'd suffered after the incident at Winter's tower nearly cost them Leonardo's life. He said another silent prayer for Austin's safe return.

Leonardo… Splinter's brow drew into a frown. He'd always enjoyed a connection with his oldest son, an understanding that made sensing his spirit the easiest, but now… now there seemed to be a barrier between them, a darkness surrounding Leonardo that Splinter could not penetrate.

_Perhaps I should speak to him again. He is still blaming himself… punishing himself, for killing that man. Oh, Leonardo. You must move on. You must find a way to let go of this guilt. Even I cannot help you. You must travel this path alone, my son. _

Splinter didn't bother to wipe away the tears that wet his fur.

***

Leonardo swung through the kata, feeling the sweat pop out on his skin. It felt good to exercise, out in the open air. He threw a punch at a fantasy opponent, allowing the imagined feeling of solidity to temper his blow.

_Not too hard… Just hard enough to stop the enemy._ He performed a round-house kick with a little more force than entirely necessary and landed precisely, swinging for a dragon-punch.

_If I can just train hard enough, I can regain my discipline..._

A tiny rustle of leaves had his head whipping around. He landed from a split-kick with his hands up, ready to strike out at an assailant. His gaze met green eyes, open wide with shock, framed by a smooth ivory-skinned face and wavy raven hair. Slowly, Leo's hands came down, though his breath seemed to be stuck somewhere between his chest and his mouth.

"Sierra! What are you doing out here?"

"Sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you." The woman stood, watching him, leaning back against a tree. "I was going crazy sitting inside. She lifted a walking stick, motioning. "I made Gene find this for me."

"Donatello will have a fit," said Leo, automatically coming toward her. He could hardly believe she was on her feet.

Her eyebrows rose. "Why?"

"You shouldn't be walking around," scolded Leo gently. "Can I help you back to the house?"

"No, thanks."

She tensed slightly at his approach. Leonardo, seeing it, stopped a few steps away. Sierra was watching him. Her expression was guarded, not wary exactly, but watchful.

"What?" he asked, feeling slightly annoyed.

She had the good grace to blush. "Nothing. Sorry. I don't mean to stare. It's just…"

"What?" he asked again, crossing his arms over his plastron.

Sierra's green eyes came up to meet his."I've just never seen anyone move the way you did just now," she explained.

In spite of her momentary wariness, there was no trace of fear in her gaze. Leonardo felt some of the tension drain out of him.

"Oh." He turned away, picking up his water bottle. He cast about for a moment, looking for his swords, before he remembered. The pain pierced his heart so sharply he drew a quick breath.

"Are you all right, Leonardo?" asked the girl.

Leo closed his eyes for a moment, steadying his emotions before he spoke again.

"I'm fine," he said.

"Ok."

He turned to face her again, startled at the intense way she was watching him. "Are you sure you don't want to go inside?"

"Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"No! No," he deliberately lowered his voice. "Sorry. I just thought…" he gestured toward her injured side.

"I'm fine, Leonardo," she said quietly. "Really."

"Ok," he said. She was still watching him with those impossibly green eyes. Leonardo felt as if there weren't enough oxygen in the air. "So… umm… what do you think of the farmhouse?"

"It's great," she said. He gave her a look and she laughed. "Ok, well, maybe the house is a little… lived in," she admitted. "But this place… it's so beautiful. Peaceful. It reminds me of where I grew up."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I lived with my family in Kansas before I moved to the city."

"Really?" Leonardo watched the light glint off her black hair.

"Yep."

"Why'd you leave?"

"The usual story. Big city, bright lights… If I could make it there, I could make it anywhere." Sierra smiled sadly. "I was young. Stupid. I thought I'd make a big splash on Broadway."

"You're an actress?"

"A dancer, actually," she replied with a smile. "At least I was, once. I… I don't dance any more." She turned away.

"Why?"

"Oh…" She drew a deep, ragged breath. "Lots of reasons. Maybe… maybe we should head back in."

"Ok," he said quietly. _A dancer. That explains her strength and endurance. Why would she give it up?_ "Do you need help?"

"No, I've got it." She took an unsteady step, leaning on the cane. When she tilted, falling forward with a cry, Leonardo was at her side, supporting her, before she could crash to the ground.

"Oh!" she jerked upright, glancing at him with wide eyes.

"Sorry," he said, quickly taking his hand away. "I thought you were going to fall."

"I was," she admitted, recovering. Hesitantly, she reached out. She looked at his face as her fingers brushed his arm. "Maybe… maybe I do need a little help," she said. "If you don't mind."

"Not at all," he said. He put his arm carefully around her waist. After only an instant's hesitation, she took a better grip on his arm, allowing him to support her as they moved together toward the house. Her hair brushed his bicep and Leo's breath caught in his chest.

_She smells nice,_ he thought. _Sort of… fruity. Sweet._

Time seemed to slow down as they moved toward the house. Leonardo's world was reduced to the feel of silky black hair brushing his arm and the faint scent that wafted to him from the woman holding his arm.

They were close to the steps when Donatello came out the door, his brown eyes scanning the yard anxiously. "Miss Jonstone!" He hurried down the stairs toward the pair, reaching toward the girl. Leonardo felt her tense.

"It's ok, Don," he said. "I've got her."

"Thank _goodness,_" said Donatello. "What on earth were you _doing_, Leo! She shouldn't be walking around. She could aggravate her injuries, tear the stitches…" Donatello was frowning.

"Leonardo didn't do _anything,_" said Sierra firmly. "I was bored. I wanted to go out. I'm _fine,_ Donatello, honestly. I'm sorry if you were worried."

"You need to rest, Sierra," said Don firmly. He shot his brother a stern look, apparently not convinced he hadn't been involved in spiriting his patient away.

"Donatello, I appreciate your concern," said Sierra firmly. "But I'm perfectly capable of deciding whether or not I'm tired."

Don was about to respond when Michelangelo burst out of the house. "Leo! Leo!" he shouted. He skidded to a halt just before he would've crashed into Donatello's shell.

"Mikey!" Don spun to face his brother. "What the _shell_ is wrong with you?"

Michelangelo stared at his brother. He glanced at Leo and back at Don, swallowing hard.

"I… uh… Donny… I…" Mike stammered.

"Spit it out, Mikey," said Leonardo firmly. "What's wrong?"

"It… I uh… Don… " Michelangelo's blue eyes landed on his brother. "I was comin' to tell Leo. We gotta go. We gotta go right now. It's… it's the girls. LH just called. The girls ran into Bishop before they could get to him."

Leonardo swore. "Mike, what happened?"

"They ambushed them," said Mike. He was pale, his eyes flickering between his brothers. "They boxed in the van with those black trucks. LH said it happened so fast, they didn't have time to do anything…" He shook his head.

"Don… I'm sorry. They… they took Beverly."


	28. Chapter 28 Acceptance

_Chapter 28 –Acceptance-  
~~~_

Leatherhead watched from the shadows as Marjory Spencer maneuvered the van carefully into the warehouse. She stepped out first, her gaze sweeping the dim room suspiciously. Leatherhead waited, watching for a moment to be certain they hadn't been followed, before helping the younger woman out of the van. His appearance from the deeper shadows seemed to startle Marjory. For an instant, she stood beside the van, watching him. Her eyes were wide in her pale face. Leatherhead stopped, smelling fear on the woman. Austin broke the tension by stumbling forward and wrapping her arms around him.

"They… they took her…" Her hitching sobs vibrated through the heavy scales of his belly. "Leatherhead, they… they took Beverly…"

He wrapped his hands gently around her shoulders, grief spiking in his own chest.

_Donatello… my friend. You must be devastated,_ he thought.

"I have already contacted the others," he said. "As soon as I got your call, I informed them of the situation. Austin, how are you feeling?"

"You talked to them... Donatello…" Leatherhead felt her shiver. "Is Donny all right?"

"I do not know," said the crocodilian honestly. "I spoke with Michelangelo." He gently took her shoulders and knelt to peer into her hazel eyes. "Austin. Donatello knew the risk Beverly was taking, as did she. She did this so that you could receive the medical care you need. Do not waste her efforts."

Austin met his yellow eyes and nodded, sniffing. Marjory Spencer moved forward. Leatherhead heard her shoes rustle nervously on the floor, felt the vibration as she edged toward them. She cleared her throat.

"Leatherhead," she said. "We should go. Can you help Austin?"

"I will do my best, Mrs. Spencer," said LH, standing to look at the woman. She met his gaze steadily, to his surprise. He could sense her primal fear, yet she seemed determined to address him respectfully. "I will require your assistance," he told her. "Obviously, with my form…" he gestured to his reptilian body, "I am not able to… perform the necessary examination. I will need you to be my hands."

Marjory nodded. "Whatever I can do to help."

"Come," said Leatherhead. He turned, walking toward the passage that would lead them back into the tunnels that led to his home. He heard Austin sniff and the rustle of fabric as Marjory wound her arm around the girl's waist. The pair followed him quietly.

"Leatherhead?" Marjory Spencer spoke up after they'd walked for some time.

"Yes, Mrs. Spencer?" He didn't bother to turn to look at her. He was able to see far better than the humans in the dim light from the weak bulbs strung along the passage, but he needed to mind his footing. Besides, experience had taught him that looking directly at humans seemed to increase their fear. They seemed to think he was considering their possibilities as snack items.

"What are we going to do about Beverly?"

"For the moment, Mrs. Spencer, we will do nothing," he replied. A growl slid into his voice despite his effort to keep it even. "We must attend to Austin. However, Donatello, Michelangelo and Splinter have set out. They will locate Beverly and attempt a rescue. When they arrive in the city, I will go to meet them. You and Austin will be safe in my home."

"You're going after this Bishop person?" asked Marjory, sounding horrified.

"We will attempt to infiltrate Bishop's holding facility and retrieve Beverly," said Leatherhead quietly. _Donatello's sanity may depend upon it._

"But… that's suicide!"

"We have no choice."

"The boys have gone up against Bishop before," Austin interjected quietly.

"Surely once he realizes his mistake, he'll let her go," said Marjory. Her voice quavered slightly.

"I fear you underestimate Agent Bishop," growled LH. "He is cold, calculating and ruthless. If he believes he can use Beverly to capture the Turtles, he will use her in any way he feels will be effective."

"He's really left you with no choice, hasn't he?"

"No."

Leatherhead heard Marjory swallow. Coming to the entrance of his home, he pressed a series of pressure-sensitive buttons cleverly hidden in the brickwork. Donatello had designed the security door. He turned to face his human visitors as the door slid open.

Light poured out, illuminating the women. Austin was pale and shaking, her face drawn with stress. Marjory had her arm protectively around the younger woman's waist. Her eyes widened as she took in the sophisticated entryway. She looked at LH. To his complete shock, she gave him a warm smile.

"They're very lucky to have a friend like you, Leatherhead," she said. She drew a slightly shaky breath. "Thank you for bringing us to your home."

"You are most welcome, Mrs. Spencer," he said, recovering.

They got Austin settled on a narrow bed in a room Leatherhead kept for when he had visitors. He explained that most of his den was taken up with his laboratory equipment. Marjory nodded, nervous now that the time had come for her to assist him.

"I will need you to palpitate her abdomen," explained LH.

She gently moved her hands over Austin's stomach, pressing where Leatherhead instructed.

"Do you have any pain, Austin?" asked Leatherhead.

"No," said Austin. She drew a shaky breath. "I just felt the baby move again."

"That is a very good sign," said the crocodilian. "Movement indicates the child is vigorous. Now, Mrs. Spencer, the next part of the examination is more… delicate. If Beverly were here, I would leave her to perform it…"

"It's all right, LH," said Austin quietly. She held out her hand, reaching toward him. "I trust you. You're my friend."

"I appreciate your trust, Austin," said Leatherhead quietly, taking the girl's hand in his large one. "Is it all right with you if Mrs. Spencer assists me?"

"Y… yes," said Austin. Her voice shook slightly.

LH nodded to Marjory. The woman was slightly pale, but she moved to the foot of the bed. Austin removed her slacks and adjusted the sheet, her face flushing with embarrassment. Leatherhead detected an increased heart-rate and caught the faint smell of sweat.

"Relax, Austin," he advised gently. She nodded, squeezing his hand.

It took a very uncomfortable few minutes, but by having Marjory describe what she found, Leatherhead was able to determine that Austin's pregnancy was proceeding normally. Her cervix was not dilated, which would've indicated a miscarriage, and there was no sign of fresh bleeding.

"Does this mean… I'm… not…" Austin's breathing hitched and hot tears slid down her cheeks.

"Austin," said Leatherhead gravely, though his own heart was pounding and he felt slightly light-headed. He had to suppress the urge to dance about the room, shouting for joy. "It would seem the bleeding was caused by some minor irritation. I'd like to take a sonogram to be certain, but it appears the baby is fine."

"You have a sonogram machine down here?" Marjory sounded shocked.

Leatherhead nodded. "Yes, Mrs. Spencer. Donatello and I designed it. He was seeking a way of scanning fractures, to monitor the healing process more closely."

"That's amazing," said Marjory softly.

"Donatello is an amazing being," said LH quietly.

"He is," said Marjory with a smile.

Leatherhead smiled in spite of himself at the praise for his friend. He went to the laboratory and gathered the sonogram, carrying it carefully to the alcove he used as a guest bedroom.

The test didn't take long. Leatherhead nodded over the results, intrigued and pleased by what he saw in spite of his worry for his friend's wife.

"It seems you are progressing as we'd predicted," he told Austin.

Austin was lying back on the bed, her eyes closed. Silent tears were sliding down her cheeks.

"Austin? Are you all right?" LH shifted, uncomfortable.

"It's… it's my fault." The girl's breathing was shallow, hitching. "They took her… they took her and it's my fault…" Her eyes opened and searched Leatherhead's face.

Marjory was sitting beside the girl. She reached out and took her hand.

"Austin, you know Beverly only followed the plan…"

"She told them it was _her_," said Austin.

Leatherhead's chest constricted at the pain in the woman's voice.

"She _told_ them. They were going to take us both, but she told them she knew why they'd come and that it was _her_ they wanted."

"Austin, it happened the way the boys planned. Beverly _planned_ to be a decoy. She knew what she was doing. She'll be _ok_," said Marjory. Leatherhead was impressed with the conviction in the woman's voice. There was, of course, no guarantee, or even much hope, that Bishop would simply let Beverly go when he found out he'd been tricked, but this was not the time to point out the cold truth to Austin. She was near hysterics as it was.

"It's my fault," moaned Austin. "I should've spoken up, but I was so afraid. I couldn't speak… How can I face Donny-san? He's going to hate me."

"Austin, Donatello is the most understanding person I've ever known," said Leatherhead quietly. "He considers you his sister. He will not blame you."

Austin's sobs echoed through the small room. Marjory Spencer moved to kneel at the bedside.

"Austin," she said softly, "Leatherhead is right. Beverly knew the risks going into this. She did what she did to _protect_ you. She and the boys came up with this plan. Donatello will absolutely not blame you. Don't you think he wants to protect his _family_? You're carrying a miracle. That's _worth _protecting."

Austin's sobs slowed. She half-sat up, leaning against the older woman. Marjory wrapped her up in a gentle embrace.

"You're going to be ok," she said softly. "The boys will be here soon, and they'll get Beverly away from that horrid man. Gene told me _no one_ comes out of the Foot Tower and they got Sierra out. I know they can save Beverly."

Austin nodded against Marjory's shoulder. "Thanks," she whispered. Finally she lay back on the bed.

"I will prepare you some tea," said Leatherhead gently.

"That would be nice." Austin's eyes slid closed.

"May I help?" Marjory stood up.

Leatherhead hesitated. He could still sense a trace of fear from the woman, though it had decreased greatly in the time they'd been caring for Austin.

"If you would like," he said, turning and leaving the room. Marjory followed him quietly to his small but workmanlike kitchen.

Leatherhead poured the water, careful not to spill the steaming liquid.

"I fear my supply of tea is limited to bags," he said. He was painfully aware of Marjory Spencer's nervousness around him. He was, after all, a seven-foot tall, bipedal crocodile. Why wouldn't she be afraid of him?

"I doubt Austin will mind," said the woman as Leatherhead poured a second cup. He stepped away, giving the woman some room, and motioned toward the cups. "Perhaps you would like some tea as well, Mrs. Spencer?"

"Thank you. And please, call me 'Marjory'. All my friends do," she replied, picking up a mug.

Leatherhead stood frozen for a moment before he recovered.

_Only an hour ago, she feared me. And yet, she is asking me to consider her a friend? _

"Thank you," he said with a faint smile. "I would like that very much."


	29. Chapter 29 Abba, Father

**A/N: _Ootochan_ means "Daddy".**

* * *

_When I called, you answered me; you made me bold and stouthearted.  
-_David, Psalms 138: 3 NIV

* * *

_Chapter 29 –Abba, Father-  
~~~_

"What? Master, you can't be serious! They _need_ me…"

Even as the words left him, the look in the turtle's eyes as he met his father's dark gaze told the rat he knew he was losing his case.

"Enough. The decision is made." Splinter's voice brooked no argument.

Splinter had begun packing the instant Michelangelo had come to tell him the dire news about his daughters in law, leaving Leonardo to comfort a devastated Donatello. He'd known immediately what would need to be done. He, and two of his sons would return to the city.

_I only hope Donatello is strong enough. I do not wish for another of my sons to be injured in this battle,_ mused Splinter.

He turned from the items he'd been laying out on the bed and took the few steps necessary to cross the small bedroom he'd been using during their stay at the farmhouse. He clasped Leonardo's large hand in both his own, holding it firmly even as he felt it tremble.

"My son," he began. He felt another tremor run through Leonardo. He stopped, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Finally he opened his eyes and looked up to meet Leonardo's gaze. The hurt, anger and confusion in his son's stare nearly undid Splinter's resolve.

"Leonardo," said Splinter, deliberately keeping his voice gentle. "Do you wish for me to allow Raphael to come as well?"

"What? No, Master, Raph is injured. He can't fight…" Leonardo sounded shocked. He stared at the rat, confused and still pleading.

"No more can I allow you to enter into battle, my son," said Splinter gently.

Leonardo made a hurt noise and tried to pull his hand away from his sensei. Splinter was strongly reminded of a time when his son was very small and he'd had to pull a splinter of wood from the boy's palm. Then, like now, he'd had to be firm with his son, to draw out the offending bit before it could cause an infection.

Now the rat held on. "Leonardo. My son. Kneel." He gave the command sternly, knowing the ingrained discipline would help the turtle accept his decision now, even with the turmoil he could feel boiling within his spirit. Splinter reached up and gently brushed his thumb against Leonardo's cheek. "I will go. I will take your brothers and retrieve my daughter. I know this is difficult for you."

"Father… This is _Bishop_. You can't…"

"Leonardo!" Splinter's reprimand had the turtle flinching, though the rat had never been of the habit of striking his sons in anger. "You will stay. You will meditate. You will seek the healing your spirit needs and you will protect your brother and my daughters. Your job is to be here and to protect our human friends."

Leo started to speak once more, but he lifted his eyes and looked into Splinter's uncompromising gaze. Splinter watched, heartbroken, as something in the turtle cracked.

"Yes, Splinter-_sama_," said Leo, his voice dulled with pain. "As you wish." Splinter brushed his hand against Leonardo's cheek once more, but the turtle turned his face away. He got slowly to his feet and without another word, left the room.

***

Gene Spencer watched the two turtles pile into their van. Donatello was silent and grim. Even Michelangelo's wisecracks were silent. As Splinter walked, past, Gene reached out to touch his shoulder hesitantly. The rat turned to face him, a question in his dark eyes.

"We'll be praying for you, Sir," said Gene quietly.

"Your thoughts are appreciated," said Splinter formally. Gene saw a flash of despair in the rat's eyes. "I fear this will be a difficult mission," he said slowly. "My sons are used to fighting as a team, a unit. We are facing one of our most potent enemies, with two of them missing." He looked into Gene Spencer's eyes. "We will not return empty-handed. Do not worry, Pastor Spencer-san. Your wife is safe with our friend Leatherhead. April and Casey will take you back to the city to reunite with her when it is safe to return and our injured here are adequately healed."

Gene blinked. Did the rat mean…? Looking into the black eyes, he knew. Splinter was telling him the little group setting out might not return at all. Splinter nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the understanding.

"Sir, are you sure leaving Leonardo behind is a good idea?" he asked. "I don't want to interfere, but it seems as if you need all the help you can get…"

Splinter shook his head. "My son is deeply troubled," he said softly. "In order to fight, he must be focused. His spirit is not ready to do battle."

"And you can't wait for Raphael's leg to heal?"

"Pastor Spencer, if it had been your life-mate who had been taken, could any force stop you from attempting to retrieve her?"

Gene blinked in understanding. "I guess not."

"I do not wish for my son Donatello to make a foolish attempt on his own. It is better that we go as a family."

"I see."

"Pastor Gene Spencer-san," said Splinter gravely. "May I ask you a favor in our absense?"

"Certainly, Mr. Hamato."

"Then I would like to ask that you would look after my son."

The dark eyes met Gene's blue ones. Gene didn't have to ask who Splinter meant. "I will."

Splinter nodded his thanks.

"Don't worry, Sir. Leonardo's got a good family supporting him. He'll get through this."

Splinter's gaze softened. "Goodbye, Pastor Gene Spencer," he said. He gave the startled man a brief, but deep, bow. "May your God go with us all today."

Gene recovered and returned the bow. "Godspeed, Sir," he said.

Splinter flashed what might have been a smile before climbing up into the van. In a cloud of dust, they were gone.

_God, go with them indeed,_ Gene prayed silently._ Keep them safe. _

***

Leonardo watched as the van pulled out of the driveway. He felt as though his very soul was driving off down the road.

_How could they? He's taking them to their death._ The words ate at his heart. _It's my fault. If I were stronger, if I hadn't failed, I'd be going with them._

_No!_ he responded, desperate to still the ugly voice. _No. Splinter wouldn't do this if he thought he couldn't handle it. Couldn't handle _Bishop._ He's always been able to handle whatever's been thrown at us. He can do this. They can do this. Even without me._

He turned away from the window. A short knife rested on the dresser, glinting in the sun. _There is no honor in death... I couldn't commit seppuku... I don't have Splinter's permission and there is no one to finish the ceremony; I can't ask that of my brothers... Or am I just making excuses because I'm too cowardly to take course that would restore my honor?  
_

Suddenly the small room was suffocating, closing in around him. The fury, guilt and anxiety for his brothers warred in his chest. Leonardo was certain he would burst if he didn't get out of that room.

He thundered down the stairs without regard for stealth or grace. Raphael was rising off the couch as he raced through the living room.

"What da _shell_, Fearless?" yelled his startled brother. Leo ignored him and kept on running.

"Leonardo!" Gene Spencer's voice slid over Leo's mind without registering.

"Leo!" He ignored April's anguished call as well. He heard her light footsteps racing after him and sped up, desperate to get away, to escape. He kept on running until the only sounds around him were those of the leaves and the small forest animals skittering into hiding at the approach of the phantom figure through the trees.

Exhausted, Leonardo fell to his knees in the leaf litter, panting. He gasped as his burning lungs drew in the much-needed air, but he couldn't hold it in long enough to get any oxygen from it. It rushed out again, in and out until he was dizzy with his efforts to breathe.

_Slow down, my son._ The familiar reminder echoed in his mind. And yet… there was something different about it this time. His father's voice sounded deeper, wilder, as if it were blending with a strong wind. Leonardo's head snapped up and he stared around the silent trees. The woods around him were absolutely still. Not even a leaf trembled. The air was cool and light on his skin. It was as if everything were holding its breath, waiting.

Trembling, Leonardo moved from his knees into a lotus position. Something… some_one_ was pressing on his mind, pushing everything else back, insistent and strangely welcoming. He could feel a Presence… something larger than himself, something he'd felt before in meditation, but had never addressed, or even acknowledged as he'd worked to empty himself, to become one with his surroundings. He'd always simply felt it as the natural ebb and flow of the universe and hadn't given it much thought.

_Who are you?_

_**I AM.**_

Leonardo trembled, but not with fear. An excitement was growing in him… a longing mixed up in sadness and joy and anticipation. He'd never felt both so completely vulnerable and so safe at the same time, save perhaps when he'd been very small and fallen asleep in his father's lap, snuggled into the rat's robes.

This was different, though… both more frightening and exhilarating.

_Who are you?_ he asked again.

_**I AM the beginning and the end. **_

_Who are you? _Leo's mouth moved this time, the words coming out with barely a sound. The breeze picked up. Leonardo was aware of the touch of the air against his face.

_**I AM.**_ The voice was a whisper now. Gentle, caressing.

Once before he'd heard the tone. _"You may call me Splinter."_

_...Father?_

The thought was involuntary, but the answer was firm.

_**Yes.**_

Leonardo felt himself shaking.

Splinter_ is my father._

_**Yes. And so am I.**_

And Leonardo knew. The ancient text he'd studied with interest… The long talk he'd had with Gene about the history of this God… He was in the presence of something ... completely other. He felt the beginnings of fear. Splinter had warned them all about the dangers of dealing with beings who inhabited the spiritual plane.

This felt different from anything he'd ever encountered, though. He felt no hostility from the Being. It simply… was. He felt it had no agenda; that it would not try to manipulate or control him. He felt it as the familiar undercurrent that marked the spiritual plane, a steady hum of power at rest. Now it felt more focused, as if it had become aware of him, though he was certain at the same time it had always known him and indeed knew him better than he knew himself.

_What do you want with me?_

_**Leonardo. You came here seeking Me.**_

Leo was shocked. _I wasn't…_ He trailed off, trying to make sense of it all. The text he'd read just last night ran through his mind.

"_There is none that is righteous; no, not even one; there is no one who understands, no one who seeks God. … Their feet are swift to shed blood. Ruin and misery mark their ways, and the way of peace they do not know. There is no fear of God before their eyes."* _

Gene's explanation when Leo'd questioned him about the passage seemed to make only partial sense, that this "God" was so big and so _other_ that no one could be "good enough" on their own to live up to His standard, that everyone, even "good" people, fell short of His standard of morality. Gene's explanation of God as the embodiment of Good made more sense to Leonardo than the idea of Him as a Person, until Gene talked about a "Son", a savior who came to give His life to pay for the first sin… the first step away from God, the one choice which had led to the broken nature of Creation, allowing evil to enter the world with a single decision, the first bite of the fruit.

Somewhere soon after that the conversation had degenerated into an argument between Michelangelo and Donatello about apples and snakes, but now the words echoed in Leonardo's mind. _Swift to shed blood…  
_

The crimson puddle that spread out over the floor as the light left the man's eyes filled his memory and Leonardo cried out in sudden grief and fear. What he'd been about to do... _There is no honor in death._ The guilt he'd been suppressing rose up in a fresh fury, threatening to crush him under its weight.

_He was hurting her…but I acted dishonorably… Splinter taught me better… _

The only answer was silence… a waiting, as if the world were frowning. Sobs shook Leo. He threw himself to the ground, abandoning all attempts at meditation, but he could not escape the feeling that Someone was watching him… disapproving eyes seemed to bore into his very soul. He didn't feel fear so much as a deep sense of having disappointed. He curled himself into a ball, shivering as if he were freezing, though the afternoon sun was warm, filtering through the trees.

_**Leonardo. My son.**_

_I have failed again. I have dishonored Splinter's teachings… _

_**Leonardo. Do you believe in Me?**_

Leo's confusion and pain grew, the guilt swelling in his gut, choking him.

_**Do you believe in Me?**_ The question came again, gentle, probing.

_I believe in Honor. _

The turtle swallowed hard. _Honor. _The word meant so much more than personal honor. Good… everything good. In the laughter of children, there was honor. In a crisp spring rain, honor could be found. In battle, with his brothers by his side, there was honor.

_**Leonardo.**_

_I have no honor… How can I cause this harm to my family?... How can I live without honor?  
_

_**Leonardo. My **_**son.**_** I AM honor.**_

Leo's breath caught in his chest. Suddenly tears were pouring, burning in rivers down his cheeks. He stripped off his mask and laid prone, his face in the grass, shaking with sobs.

_**Leonardo.**_ The voice whispered.

The terrified turtle felt the gentlest breeze touch his skin. He was vividly aware of everything, every rustle of every leaf, the minute skittering of some small animal across the leaves, though his eyes were tightly closed. Leo whimpered and covered his head with his hands, curling in on himself and… waited. He could do nothing else.

_**I so loved **_**you**_** that I came, so if you believe in Me, you will not die.**_

The voice grew to a roar. The wind screamed through the trees. The branches swayed and creaked. Leonardo was certain he would be swept up, tossed on the wind like a speck of dust, lost in oblivion… and in that moment, he didn't care. If only he could be rid of the crushing weight of guilt and shame that was consuming him. If only he could go back and change that one moment, make a different choice... The wind grew louder. Cracks like thunder echoed.

_Help! Sensei! Father! Otoochan… save me._

In an instant, all was silent. The world was still, quiet, peaceful, at rest.

Sobs shook Leonardo, but now the tears were a relief, welling up in him and spilling over, the horrible lump of guilt, the grief and fear, dissolving as they ran down his cheeks. He felt released, free. The peace engulfed him and he knew nothing more.

* * *

_*Romans 3:11,15 NIV_


	30. Chapter 30 Driven

**A/N: Wow. There was an overwhelming response to yesterday's chapter. I am both amazed and deeply humbled. Thank you.**

* * *

_Chapter 30 –Driven-  
~~~_

The Battle Shell raced down the road at break-neck speed.

"Can't you drive any faster, Mike?" asked Donatello for the third time in ten minutes.

"Dude, if I go any faster I'll wreck," snapped Michelangelo. "Keep yer shell on, Don."

"Michelangelo, please proceed cautiously," scolded Splinter.

"Sensei, please allow me to drive," pleaded Don, reaching for the buckle on his seatbelt even as he spoke. "I could get us there more quickly…"

"_Donatello_," snapped Splinter.

The purple-banded turtle's gaze fell. "I just… I have to get to her, Sensei," said Don softly. He sank back into the seat, defeat making his shoulders slump.

"I understand your feelings, my son," said Splinter, reaching over to clasp Don's hand in his velveted fingers. "But we must arrive in the city without incident if we are to rescue Beverly. You must quiet your spirit, Donatello, and remember your training."

"_Hai_, Sensei," answered Don. He settled into the seat. "Splinter?"

"Yes, my son?"

"I… I couldn't bear it. If… if anything happens to Beverly."

Splinter sighed and nodded. "I know, Donatello."

***

Beverly Hamato paced across the small room, agitated. She'd given up pounding on the mirror that took up a large portion of one wall, screaming at the men she knew were watching her from the other side to let her _out._ She'd demanded to speak with a lawyer, cursed, ranted and raved, all without any result whatsoever.

_At least Austin's safe,_ she thought, finally sinking down on the narrow bed. _They didn't get Austin. They didn't get the baby. _

She glared around once more at the stark white walls. _At least they could give me a magazine. A television. _Something._ This is ridiculous. Prisoners are treated better than this in jail. _

A shiver shook her and she rubbed her arms. _If they'd gotten one of the boys…_ _At least I'm fairly certain this guy won't have me… dissected. Oh Donny. I miss you. I hope you won't try coming after me. I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you._

Beverly was so lost in thought, the knob's slow turn didn't get her attention until the latch on the door _clicked_. She jumped up as the door swung open. Three men came into the room. Two were wearing white lab coats. The one with dark hair and strikingly blue eyes carried a small tray of medical instruments. Beverly backed away instinctively, but the third man, wearing a suit and mirrored sunglasses that hid his eyes, spoke.

"Now, Miss Koban," he intoned smoothly. "These gentlemen are simply going to draw a bit of blood. As a nurse, you know that cooperating will make this a more pleasant experience for everyone."

"Don't you _touch_ me," hissed Bev, taking a defensive stance. "I want a lawyer. I want to speak to someone _in charge._ I _demand_ to know why I'm being held here!"

"My dear Miss Koban." The man smiled. Slowly, he reached up and removed the glasses. "I believe you _know_ why you've been apprehended. Our… organization, does what is necessary to protect the interests and security of these United States of America. Indeed, the _world_. No judge in the world would dispute our taking you into custody. Especially once they heard what is growing in your womb." He leaned forward slightly, smirking.

Beverly took a step back, paling slightly. _Exposure…_ she knew it could mean the end of the Turtles. Of Don.

"You're _crazy,_" she spat.

The man smiled. "We've wasted enough time," he said, gesturing to the other men. "Now, will you cooperate, or must I call soldiers in here to restrain you?"

The men in the white lab coats moved forward purposefully. Beverly glared, daring them to touch her. The blond reached for her, grabbing her wrist. Her fist shot out, catching him neatly in the chest. She kicked out with her leg, catching the second man in the knee. He went down with a startled shout.

In an instant the man in the suit had his arm around her throat, her arm twisted painfully behind her back in a submission hold. Bev squirmed, but he jerked her wrist upward until she stopped struggling, fearing he'd break her arm.

The doctors picked themselves up from the floor, grumbling. The man in the suit held Beverly still as they approached, more cautiously this time.

"I suggest," he hissed in her ear. "That you cooperate."

The dark-haired man grabbed the arm that wasn't twisted behind her back and held it while the blond unwrapped a sterile hypodermic, jabbing it with more force than absolutely necessary into Bev's arm.

She watched impassively as the crimson liquid spurted into the clear cylinder. The man replaced the vial several times before he was satisfied. Finally he pressed a piece of gauze over the needle before pulling it out, taping the gauze in place to control the bleeding. The man holding Beverly let her go with a small shove.

Bev turned to glare at him, backing up until her shoulders brushed the wall.

"You," she spat. "You are _insane._ And you're going to regret this."

"I sincerely doubt that, Miss Koban," said the man with a smile.

"At least tell me who you are," she snapped. "So I know who to _sue._ Assault. False imprisonment…"

"I suppose it's only fair," said the man, smirking. The two scientists left the room, closing the door behind them. The man in the suit seemed in no hurry to leave. He stood watching her.

"After all, Miss Koban, I know who _you_ are. I know _what_ you've been having… relations with. I know that your brother, Jack, is in Federal prison for another seven years, for assault and attempted murder. I know," he walked to the mirror and stood, admiring his own reflection. "That he is under psychiatric care at the moment and that the parole board who are meeting next week will turn him down for early release because he is still considered too dangerous to liberate into society."

"You don't know _anything_," snapped Beverly.

"Don't I?" The man turned, his eyebrows rising in mock surprise. "I know you lost your job as the head nurse in your home-town hospital, Miss Koban, because Jack's daughter stole medications from the pharmacy."

Ice settled in Beverly's stomach, forming a cold, hard lump. Still, she wouldn't give the man the satisfaction of seeing how shocked she was at the extent of his knowledge.

"You don't even know my _name_," she hissed.

He laughed, a sharp, cold sound. "Oh?"

"Yes," she said, straightening. She stared him full in the face. "I am _Mrs. _Beverly _Hamato,_" she said quietly.

The slight flicker in the man's eyes was the only indication of surprise.

"You consider yourself _married_ to the creature?"

"He is legally my _husband_," said Beverly. "I have a _certificate _from the state of New York to prove it. And he's more of a man than _you_ can ever _hope_ to begin to _imagine _being."

A faint flush crept up the man's neck. His face hardened into a mask of hatred.

"I'll tell you about your _husband_," he growled. "He's a _mutant._ A _freak_ of nature. He shouldn't even _exist_. If not for the foolishness of a few scientists and the careless handling of some extremely dangerous chemicals, he wouldn't be alive to _be_ a threat to our way of life. He is a scientific oddity, nothing more."

"Then why do you want him so badly?" snapped Beverly.

"I _don't_," sneered the man. "After all, he and his brothers have proven difficult to contain. You, however, _Mrs. Hamato_, have brought me the DNA and other samples I require for further study."

He crossed the room. Beverly backed up until her shoulders brushed the wall. The man stood so close she could see the flecks of gold in the brown of his eyes… brown like Donatello's, but Don's chocolate eyes were soft and caring. The man's gaze was cold as frozen steel.

"I don't need your _husband_, Mrs. Hamato. I have _you._" He brushed his fingers lightly against her stomach. "And a sample of his DNA, right here."

With one last smirk, he turned, striding purposefully away. Opening the door, he turned, pausing.

"By the way, Mrs. _Hamato_, my name is John. Agent John Bishop, at your service." And with that, he was gone.

Beverly sank down on the end of the bed and tried to stop her hands from trembling. She hated the man with every fiber of her being. If it were possible, she was even angrier now than she had been before.

_Oh, Donny,_ she thought, wrapping her arms across her abdomen, unconsciously covering the area Bishop had touched, as if she could hide it. _Please stay away. He can't get a hold of you. He _can't.

Bev drew a shuddering breath. Slowly, she lay down on the bed. She'd spent her young life with an insane older brother. She'd been afraid of Jack, but he was nothing compared to this Bishop character.

_Jack is nuts_, she thought. _This guy is worse. _


	31. Chapter 31 Tension

_Chapter 31 –Tension-  
~~~_

"Where _is_ he?"

Raphael paced across the room, his crutches thumping irritably on the wooden floor. Bailey yelped, scuttling out of the way, and disappeared into the kitchen. Klunk opened one eye, yawning at the dog's antics, before lowering his head and going back to sleep on the back of an armchair.

"Hey, Dude, chill, man," Casey answered from the couch.

April, Ann and Gene had gone out to look for Leonardo, leaving the two alone with Sierra. The girl's eyes snapped back and forth from the pacing turtle to the man perched on the other end of the couch. She was pressed against the arm, as far from Casey Jones as she could get, though she wasn't quite cringing.

"He doesn't normally storm off like that, does he?" she asked.

"Nah, dat's usually Raph's gig," answered Casey with a smirk.

The woman's green eyes flicked toward the vigilante before she looked away with a slight shiver.

"Hey, relax," said Casey. "Raph, sit down, man. Yer makin' her nervous."

"No, it's ok," said Sierra quietly. "Raphael doesn't make me nervous."

Raphael swung around. "I can't jus' _sit_ here while my bro's are out there!" he growled.

"Raphael, they will find him," said Sierra, sitting up a little. She kept her body turned slightly toward Casey. Raphael paced across the room, behind her, but she didn't turn to look for him.

Casey got to his feet. Raph saw the girl flinch slightly and heard the slight hitch in her breathing when the big man moved.

_Shell,_ he thought. _An' Case-man t'ought _I_ made her nervous. What's up wit' dis girl?_

"I'm gonna grab a soda an' see if I can fix dat porch swing in da barn," said Casey, stretching his uninjured arm. "Ya want one, Raph? Babe?"

"Nah, I'm good," growled Raph. Sierra just shook her head.

Raphael came around the back of the couch and took Casey's spot. He watched the girl, who'd relaxed slightly. She shifted on the cushions, leaning back and closing her eyes.

"Ya all right, Sierra?" asked Raph gruffly.

"I'm fine." She lifted her head to smile at him. "I'm sure they'll be back soon. He'll be _ok,_ Raphael."

Raph shook his head. "I know," he admitted. "Fearless can take care o' himself. It's da others I'm worried about, ya know? Bishop… he's bad news."

"He sounds like a mad-man."

Raphael's laugh was short and bitter. "Ya might say dat," he said. "Hey," he shifted on the couch, easing the pinch the cast was putting on the back of his leg. "What's up wit' you an' Casey? I mean, ya don't seem bothered by us…" he gestured, indicating his shell. "Or Splintah. But yer all twitchy aroun' Case."

Bailey reappeared, trotting over to sit next to the girl. She reached out absentmindedly and scratched his ears. The big dog leaned against her legs, a picture of contentment.

"Oh. Oh, I well…" Sierra shook her head. A slight flush crept up her cheeks.

"Ya know he's married ta April, right?" growled Raphael.

Sierra's green eyes snapped to Raphael. "I know."

"He's m' best friend," said Raph, crossing his arms over his plastron. "An' Ape's like a sister ta us."

"She seems like an amazing woman," said Sierra with a faint smile.

"She is," he told her. "An' I wouldn't want anyt'ing ta… ya know, come between 'em."

"I don't know what you're talking about Raphael," said Sierra.

"I'm talkin' about da way ya get all _nervous_ aroun' da head-Case," growled Raph. "Da way ya keep watchin' 'im. He's _taken,_ Sierra."

Bailey whined softly as the woman's hand fell away from his ears. Sierra stared, her eyes going wide with shock, then she started to laugh softly. "Oh! Raphael, you thought… you thought I…? Oh…"

"What's so funny?" snapped Raph, feeling very foolish suddenly.

"Nothing," she said. The laughter died as quickly as it had begun. "It's just…" she lifted her hands. "It's just… I can either laugh or I can cry. I guess I'd rather laugh." She shook her head. "Sorry. No, Raphael, don't worry. I am no threat to April."

"Den why da ya keep watchin' Casey like dat?" asked Raph, suspicious.

Green eyes snapped to his face. Sierra was trembling slightly. A myriad of emotions seemed to be warring in her expression. Fear, anger, grief. Finally she turned away.

"He reminds me of my ex," she said quietly.

Something about the way she said it… The pieces fell into place. Raphael leaned across the couch, tentatively reaching to touch her shoulder. Bailey sighed and laid his head on his paws, apparently resigned to losing his head-scratcher.

"He… hurt ya, didn't he?" he asked quietly.

Sierra drew a deep, ragged breath. "It was a long time ago." Her voice was steady, and when she looked up at Raphael again, she met his gaze steadily. "Over three years."

"Listen, Sierra," Raph gave her shoulder a squeeze and let her go. "Casey will _nevah_ hurt ya. He's a' idiot, but he'd never raise his hand ta a woman. Never."

Sierra nodded slowly. "Ok," she said. "I... I guess I knew that. Or at least I should've known. Sorry."

"It musta been bad," said Raph quietly. "Ta make ya so twitchy. But yer ok wit' Gene."

"Gene's been my friend for a long time," said Sierra. "He… he was there when my ex put us in the hospital…" She trailed off. Raph was shocked to see tears start sliding down her cheeks.

"Us?" he asked, not certain he wanted to know.

Sierra nodded. Slowly, she shifted on the couch, reaching with her uninjured hand into her back pocket. She drew out a tattered photograph protected in a slim plastic sleeve. She peered at it for a moment with a watery smile, before passing it to Raphael.

Raph stared at the ebony-haired toddler grinning up from the photo with mischief and joy captured in for an instant in time. Her green eyes were unmistakably Sierra's. The child seemed to glow with happiness and health. He glanced at the woman. Her face was frozen, a mask of pain.

"Her name was Hayley. She was two."

Rage rose up in Raphael's chest. Rage against the unfairness of a world where Sierra's situation was all too common, where children were harmed by the very people who should have loved and cherished them, where people were broken and damaged every single day.

"Was he da father?" he asked quietly.

"Yes." Sierra turned away. "He's in prison."

"Good." It wasn't enough. For an instant, Raph wanted to go, storm the prison where the man was incarcerated, and deliver _real_ justice.

Slowly, he handed the photo back to Sierra.

"We'd just started attending Gene's church," she said softly. "She… she liked the Sunday School. Being with the other kids, you know?" She laughed, a fragile sound. "She adored Marjory."

"She sounds like a great kid."

"She was." Sierra slid the photo carefully back into her pocket.

They sat for a long moment in silence.

Raphael's hands were clenched into fists on his lap. _Shell. I know Ann's old man knocked her around, but dat was different. She was a kid. Dis chick… She was the adult. She should o' protected her kid. _

"Why didn't ya leave 'im?" he asked finally.

Sierra tensed, shooting him a look. "I couldn't," she said. "It was… complicated. I don't expect you to understand."

"Yer right. I _don't_."

Sierra scrambled to her feet, grabbing the walking stick up from beside the couch. Bailey yelped and disappeared into the kitchen again. The woman opened her mouth to speak, and Raph was certain she was about to curse him out, by the way she held her body tense and her eyes flashed. What she would've said was cut off, though, by the front door opening.

"Leo!" Raph got awkwardly to his feet.

Leonardo wasn't wearing his mask. He was walking, but leaning heavily on Gene Spencer, as if he were exhausted. His other arm was draped over April's shoulders. Ann came in behind them, limping slightly.

April was just about able to stand under the weight of Leo's arm. Her face was streaked with sweat, and there were bits of leaves stuck in the red-head's hair. Gene didn't look much better. Raph rushed to them, searching his brother for injuries and instinctively reaching to take his weight from Gene.

"No, Raphael," Ann said sharply. "Gene and April have him. He's ok."

"Come on, Leo, let's get you to the couch." Gene moved forward, supporting Leo.

Leonardo nodded, but Raph could see that he was half out of it. The pair led him to the couch, easing him down on the cushions. Sierra fetched a blanket from the back of the chair and draped it over him, gently tucking it in around his shoulders.

"What happened?" she asked, looking up at Gene.

"We found him about three miles from here," said Gene, wiping a hand over his sweaty brow. "Unconscious. We couldn't find any injuries. It was like he… decided to lie down out in the woods and just… take a nap. We were able to wake him up, but he seemed dazed. We brought him back here."

"What happened ta 'im?" asked Raphael. "April, could dis o' been Bishop? Did somebody attack him?"

April stood at the back of the couch, frowning. "I don't think so, Raph," she said. "His knife was on the ground, but there's not a mark on him."

She slipped the short dagger out of her belt and handed it to Raphael. He examined it closely, but there was no blood.

April shook her head. "He doesn't seem injured, Raph. He's just… exhausted. Has he been getting _any_ sleep?"

Raphael shook his head in frustration, slipping the knife into his own belt. "I t'ought he was doin' better, ya know?" Ann moved to his side, putting her arm around his waist.

"He's going to be ok, Raph," she said. "He was awake, talking to us. He said he was sorry for scaring us. He knew his name, but not where he was."

Raphael turned toward his girlfriend, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her roughly close, comforted by her warmth and the smell of the outdoors on her hair.

"How'd ya hurt yerself, Annie?" he asked softly. Ann twitched against him with a soft snort of disgust.

"I fell. I was helping Gene at first, but your brother is heavy," she admitted. "I twisted my ankle. April had to help for the last two miles."

"Ann's right. Leo is heavy," said April, reaching up to rub her shoulder. "It's a good thing he was able to at least try to walk, or we never could've gotten him back here."

The red-head met Raphael's eyes. "Raph, he's going to be ok, I promise. Gene checked him over. He just seems… very tired. I think all this stress he's been under must have caught up with him. After he sleeps for a while, he'll be ok."

"Shell, I hope so," growled Raph. "Da last t'ing we need is Fearless here hurtin' himself." _An' sorry, Leo, but ya ain't gettin' yer knife back. In fact, ya won't be gettin' yer katanas back if I have anyt'in ta say about it. Not until I'm sure yer done bein' a shell-head._

"I'll stay with Leonardo," Gene said. "If you girls want to get cleaned up and rest."

"Ok, thanks. I think I'll get a shower," April responded with a smile.

"I'm going upstairs to lie down," said Ann.

Raphael felt her arms tighten slightly around him. His breathing and heart rate sped up slightly as he inhaled her intoxicating scent.

"Come ta my room, Annie," he whispered too softly for the others to hear, tightening his hold around her waist.

She nodded against his plastron, smiling. "Ok."

The pair headed down the hall. Raph had been given a ground-floor room because of his injury.

Ann waited patiently while Raphael maneuvered his crutches. Raph found his hands trembling annoyingly. He and Ann hadn't been intimate since his injury. The cast caused obvious problems, and being in a houseful of people wasn't helping, either. Though they were certain everyone at home knew Ann visited Raph's bedroom regularly back at the Lair, they still followed conventions at the farmhouse, with Ann bunking in a room upstairs while Raph sweated away his nights on the lower floor, wishing his leg would allow him to make the trip up to her room.

He was painfully aware of her nearness, the scent of her hair, the feel of her hand on his arm. The tension in him was terrible, causing him to tremble slightly. He longed for the release he knew he'd find in her arms. Frustration made him growl as the crutch slipped on the wooden floor.

"Take it _easy_, Raph," scolded Ann gently. She took him firmly by the arm, supporting him. He met her brown eyes, and she smiled. "We'll get there together," she whispered gently.

Raphael felt something melt in his chest. He wrapped an arm around her waist.

"I've missed ya, Annie," he whispered.

"Me, too," she said gently, leaning over to nuzzle his shoulder.

Together, they made their way down the hall.


	32. Chapter 32 Infiltration

_Chapter 32 –Infiltration-  
~~~_

Leatherhead followed the rat easily enough through the pitch-black tunnel though his claws made almost no sound on the concrete floor. Donatello's leathery feet gave more vibration. LH could feel his footsteps as faint buzzing touches through his own clawed feet. Each of the creatures gave off their own unique scent. Donatello smelled faintly of his laboratory back at the Lair, which he had visited to retrieve the latest data they had on Bishop's whereabouts.

Splinter's scent was one of tea leaves, incense and fur. Michelangelo's normally pleasant scent, a mixture of vanilla, dough, and pizza sauce, was masked almost entirely by the combined smells of fear and rage. Leatherhead could hear the youngest turtle's heart pounding, the shallow, rapid quality of his breathing and knew his young friend was afraid.

He wanted to speak some words of reassurance to the orange-banded turtle, but what was there to say? They were going into an incredibly dangerous situation. Without the other two turtles, this could very well turn out to be a suicide mission. And yet… Leatherhead could almost feel the grief and worry rolling off Donatello in waves. They had no other choice. They would rescue the woman Donatello loved, or die in the attempt.

Leatherhead could feel his own anger, threatening to rise up and choke off his careful self-control. _Bishop_. If ever a creature deserved death, it was that man. LH remembered the torment he'd suffered in the lab, the roars and cries of pain the man had seemed to delight in drawing forth.

He'd taken everything Leatherhead had striven for, his constant battle against his own animal instincts and left it smashed at the crocodilian's feet. Leatherhead admitted to himself that he, too, was afraid of Bishop. But like Michelangelo, he would brave the man for Donatello's sake. Beverly's safety and well being could not be sacrificed.

When Donatello stopped rather abruptly, Leatherhead's sensitive hearing caught Michelangelo's faint "eep". The orange-banded turtle had nearly walked right into his brother's shell. Leatherhead reached out, laying a clawed hand on the young turtle's shoulder. Mikey jumped.

"Relax, my friend," said Leatherhead.

"I'm glad we got you here, LH," Mike whispered, reaching up to brush his fingers against the claws on his shoulder in a friendly gesture.

Leatherhead caught the faint whiff of Austin's scent on Michelangelo. The trio had made the journey from their own Lair to meet him at his Den. The crocodilian suspected Donatello permitted the delay for his brother's sake. He could have easily met the turtles at their Lair, but it had been agreed that Leatherhead's den was a safer place for the women to take refuge while the mutants attempted the rescue. The way Michelangelo embraced Austin, wrapping her up against his plastron as if he could never be parted from her again, told Leatherhead that the youngest turtle needed the contact the way a plant needs water.

Donatello had watched, impassive, as his brother took a moment to reunite with his wife, but had turned away after only a moment.

Mike and Austin were not insensitive to Donatello's distress. They'd broken off the embrace and Austin went to Donatello, wrapping him up in a protective, encouraging hug. She'd whispered to him in Japanese and Leatherhead's keen hearing detected the hitch in his friend's breathing before the woman let him go. When Donatello met his eyes again, his gaze was steady and determined.

"Let's go."

***

"We'll have to go through this access panel," whispered Donatello. "We'll have to get another floor up to get to the holding cells. So look for an elevator or stairs… anything we can use to get to the next floor."

"Ya mean you don't have the blueprints? A map? Anything?" Michelangelo's voice rose slightly with panic. "How're we gonna find our way around, Don?"

"Michelangelo." Splinter's quiet voice silenced Don's reply. "Your brother has done well, bringing us this far. Now we must move forward. We will stay together. Leatherhead-san, perhaps you should remain here, to provide us with back-up."

"No, Splinter," said LH, his voice rumbling quietly. "You may need me."

"I do not wish to place you in a position of… losing your temper," said Splinter gravely.

"I appreciate your concern, Master Splinter," said Leatherhead gently. "But I will take my chances."

"All right." The old rat's tone was accepting. "Let us go. Stick together. Watch for traps. Remember that Bishop is resourceful and _dangerous._"

"Yes, Sensei," said Donatello and Michelangelo in a whispered chorus. A fresh wave of fear hit Leatherhead's sensitive nostrils, awakening a low growl deep in his chest. He felt, rather than saw, Splinter glance at him, but the rat didn't comment.

Donatello loosened the nuts holding the ventilation panel and carefully lowered the screen to the floor. Cautiously, Splinter stepped out into the hall, followed closely by his sons. Leatherhead had to duck to get through the opening. Reaching behind them, he lifted the ventilation screen back into place, camouflaging their entry point against casual eyes.

They made their way cautiously down the hall. The doors seemed endless, going off down other passages. Leatherhead saw the muscles in Don's shoulders standing out clearly, tense with frustration. Splinter moved ahead of his sons, his sensitive nose twitching as he followed the faint scent of strawberries that marked his daughter-in-law's unique smell. They moved cautiously down the corridor.

_We must find her soon,_ thought Leatherhead. _We must find her and leave this place. It reeks of danger. I cannot help but feel we are walking directly into a trap._

***

Beverly squirmed against the restraints pinning her to the table. To say she was scared would be an understatement. She was _terrified_. She'd heard stories from the boys about Bishop. The dark, stormy look that came into Leo's face when they'd spoken of the man, the way Raph's sai spun on his hand and his eyes burned with a raging flame, the nervous way Michelangelo shuffled his feet, and the bleak look in her husband's gaze told her that Agent Bishop was a madman, a force to be reckoned with.

Donatello's voice whispered through her memory.

_He tried to dissect Mikey, Bev. When we got there, he had him strapped to a table, and he had this little circular saw blade. He was going to cut through his plastron. He wanted to cut my brother into pieces, all for the name of science._

Don had snuggled closer to her in their bed, shivering. Bev remembered clearly the feel of his shell under her arm as she wrapped in up in a tight embrace, whispering reassurances and vowing to take the man apart herself if he ever came near her husband and his family again.

The rage that had risen in her then was not an adequate shield for her present situation. She turned her head as well as she was able, taking in the room she'd been brought to, desperately seeking some clue as to what they intended to do to her.

What she saw was not reassuring. She was in a laboratory of sorts. It reminded her a bit of a doctor's office, but this doctor would have to be a bit on the insane side, if not completely mad. There were various instruments laid out on the counter, many of which even her medical training didn't allow Bev to identify.

Overhead was an enormous machine which Beverly knew was an x-ray.

_I hope that's all they intend,_ she thought. _If they're wanting to run tests on my mythical baby, they'd want pictures of it first. I've got to stall them somehow. Got to get out of this. Austin is safe now, but the boys need time to get here, to get her out of the city before he realizes he's made a mistake and grabbed the wrong girl. Oh, Donny. I'm so sorry._ _I made a lousy decoy._

Beverly's train of thought was abruptly cut off as the door swung open. She recognized the man who entered. It was the dark-haired man who'd come to the cell to take her blood. He smiled as he approached the table.

"Are you comfortable, my dear?" he asked.

Beverly glared at him and didn't bother to answer. She didn't trust her voice not to shake at this point.

"Don't worry. This part of the process will be nearly painless, I assure you," he said, smiling again. He reached toward her and Beverly jerked away as well as she was able. The man traced a finger along her arm, causing the woman to shudder and glare at him.

"Don't _touch_ me, you _freak_," she snapped.

The man's eyes snapped to her face and his smile widened. "Spirit," he said. "Good. You'll need it." He straightened. "Shall we begin?"


	33. Chapter 33 Awakening

_Chapter 33 –Awakening-  
~~~_

Sierra watched as Leonardo's plastron rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm. The turtle looked so serene. It was the first time Sierra had seen him so completely at ease. She gathered up her drawing pad and opened the metal case that held her pencils. Her injured arm made holding the pad awkward, but she balanced it on her knee.

Gene came into the room, smelling of soap and wearing fresh clothes.

"How is he?"

Sierra set the pad aside. "Resting," she said softly. "The poor guy."

"I've never seen anything like it," said Gene softly. "He was just lying in the leaves, curled up. It was just as if he were sleeping. He seemed so… peaceful."

"I hope he'll be all right," said Sierra softly.

"I'm sure he will be," said Gene. "How are you holding up? This has been quite an… interesting experience."

"I'm fine. I just hope the others come back safely," said Sierra. Tears stung her eyes and she looked away.

"What's wrong, Sierra? You looked upset when we came in."

"Nothing." She reached down to scratch Bailey, who was once again lying at her feet.

"Sierra," said Gene quietly. "I know you better than that. What's going on?"

"I… showed Raphael the picture of Hayley."

"Oh?"

"Yes. He… thought I _liked_ Casey. He was worried about him and April." Sierra gave a shaky laugh.

"Hmm. I noticed you were a little uncomfortable around him. Casey does look a little like Derrick, doesn't he?" Gene's tone was gentle, but Sierra flinched physically at the name. "Do you want to lie down for a while? I'll sit with Leonardo," he suggested.

"… I don't think so, Gene," said Sierra softly. "Why don't you get some rest?"

"All right," said Gene. "It's been a long day. Are you sure you'll be ok?"

Sierra nodded. She came over to the couch and looked down at the sleeping turtle. A smile tugged at her lips. "I'll sit with him for a while," she said.

Gene stood up. He paused for a moment, watching the woman. "Sierra?"

"Yes?" She glanced at him.

Gene hesitated. Finally he sighed and shook his head. "Nothing," he said with a smile. "I'll see you in a little while."

"All right."

Sierra sank into one of the armchairs as Gene made his way up the stairs. She couldn't take her eyes off Leonardo. He looked so… peaceful, so serene. Bailey's whine made her jump. The German shepherd was looking at her hopefully, his tail moving slowly across the floor.

"Do you need to go out?" she asked. The big dog seemed to have the run of the farm, so she got up, using the cane she'd borrowed, and opened the door. Bailey took off across the yard with a happy yelp, and immediately dropped his nose to the ground, sniffing contentedly at the grass.

Sierra looked back at Leonardo. She fought off the urge to go over to the couch, to touch his face. _If he woke up, I'd be mortified,_ she told herself firmly. _Still… he's so…_ slowly, before she could talk herself out of it, she went over to the couch and sank to the floor, arranging herself so that she could lean back against the front of the sofa, her head near Leonardo's chest. She leaned there, settling in comfortably, content to simply watch him sleep.

_He looks so different without his mask. So… vulnerable. And yet… he's so strong. _Her eyes lingered on his arm, lying on top of the blue blanket. His muscles rippled as he moved, shifting in his sleep.

Sierra gasped, her eyes flicking to his face, but he didn't wake. Slowly, hesitantly, she raised one hand to trace a finger lightly over his wrist, fascinated by his smooth-rough skin. She felt as though an electric current were running down her arm from the touch. She'd been fascinated when she'd first seen Raphael, but Leonardo was… different, from his hot-headed brother.

_He's extraordinary,_ she thought. _So strong… yet so courteous. So in control. And the way he moved… He could be a dancer. The others are amazing too, but Leonardo is so… graceful. So disciplined. And his eyes… _

Glancing at his face once more, she took her hand back, clutching it in her lap. She leaned back against the couch with a smile, her eyes drifting closed, content to be near him.

***

Leonardo's eyes flickered open.

_I'm… home?_ He sat up slowly, feeling lightheaded, as if he'd slept for a very long time. He blinked, rubbing one hand over his face. He felt something brush his arm and looked down, startled.

Sierra was sitting on the floor next to him, her back against the couch. Her head had tilted back, her silken curls brushing against his bicep when he moved. Leo's breath caught in his chest and his heart rate sped up. Sierra's neck was exposed, a faint pulse beating just below the skin, her face quiet and her lips curving in a soft smile. Leonardo swallowed hard, trying to get his raging emotions under control. He wanted to lean forward, to press his face against the softness of her throat, to feel her pulse flutter under his mouth…

He shook himself. _What would she want with me? I'm a mutant and she's… she's amazing._

_What does Beverly want with Don? Austin with Mike? Ann with Raph?_ The arguing voice spoke up annoyingly.

_That's different._

_How?_

_It just is._

Leo shook himself. He edged back on the couch until he was sitting up and swung his legs over the side. Cautiously, he reached out, nudging Sierra's arm. She drew a breath, shifting closer to his hand with a faint smile, but her eyes remained closed.

"Sierra," whispered Leonardo gently. "Sierra, wake up. You don't want to sleep like that, you're going to be sore…"

"Hmm, what?" The woman shifted, her green eyes flickering open. "Oh! Oh, Leonardo…" She blushed. Leo had to force himself not to stare. He'd never seen anything quite as beautiful as the flushed look of confusion and embarrassment she was giving him.

"I… I guess you fell asleep. Were you… waiting for me?" he asked.

Sierra's blush deepened.

"Umm… Yeah, kind of," she whispered. "How are you feeling?" She drew up her uninjured leg, trying to get up.

"Let me help you," he said softly. He reached down, cupping a hand under her arm. The shock of warmth that traveled up his arm when he touched her nearly took his breath away. Leo could feel himself trembling and tried desperately to stop as he helped the woman slide up and onto the couch. She turned, looking into his eyes.

"Thanks."

"No problem." He tried a cautious smile. "What… what happened, anyway? I… I'm not sure how I got back here."

"What do you remember?" asked Sierra quietly.

"Sensei left with Mike and Don," he said slowly. He glanced over at the woman, but she shook her head before he could ask the question forming.

"There's no word yet," she said softly.

"Oh." Leonardo swallowed hard, forcing himself to focus. "Well… I remember arguing with Splinter." He closed his eyes against the flash of pain the memory brought. "And they left… I guess… I guess I… ran away." _I was going to... What was I thinking? How could I have considered betraying my family that way? _He felt himself flushing with shame.

"You were upset."

Leo's breath quickened as a delicate hand caught hold of his own, giving him a reassuring squeeze. His world was reduced to the warmth in the hand wrapped around his fingers and the green eyes peering into his. He couldn't move, could hardly breathe. He was trapped, held captive by her gaze.

"Sierra," he whispered. "I…"

"What, Leonardo?" Her voice was soft, but there was a longing there, a questioning.

"I don't remember what happened. Until I woke up here… with you," he finished. Leo felt as if he were drowning. His lungs couldn't draw in enough air.

"Gene, Ann and April found you in the woods. They brought you back. "You ran over three miles."

"Oh!" He couldn't look away. Her eyes were so… green. "I… didn't mean to cause anyone trouble."

"You didn't," she said gently. "We were worried about you."

"I'm sorry."

"Are you ok now, Leonardo?" she leaned forward, looking into his face, searching.

Slowly, he nodded. "I am."

She nodded. "I... I'm just... glad you're ok," She shifted backward.

Disappointment welled in him, but he shoved it down, sitting back casually. Sierra reached over the end of the couch and picked up her drawing pad. She moved to close the cover, but Leo reached over to touch her hand.

"You… you drew these, didn't you?" he asked softly. "You did it from memory?"

"Yes." She shifted, blushing.

"They're amazing," said Leonardo. "I… I never would've guessed, when we met, that you were an artist."

"When we met? You mean in the church, when you wanted to slice Gene and I to bits?" she asked, teasing.

Leo shook his head. "I was… scared," he said. "You don't understand. There are people who would… sell us off to some laboratory. Or call a tabloid. Finding Raph like that, helpless…"

"I know," she said softly. "Sometimes people can be so cruel."

"I'm sorry you got caught up in all this, Sierra," he said seriously.

The woman shook her head. "I wouldn't change things if I could," she said. Besides, you got me out of that awful place. You saved my life." He felt her shiver and he put an arm around her shoulders automatically.

"I murdered that man," said Leo softly. For the first time, the words didn't cause a twist in his heart.

"Leonardo," she lifted her head to gaze into his eyes. "You are a _good_ person. You fought for me. You and your brothers came, when no one else would have. You risked your life. I will never forget that. No one…" her gaze faltered for an instant. "No one's ever done that for me before."

"We couldn't have left you there," he told her. "It was our fault you were taken."

"They would've killed me, Leonardo," she said. "The man… When they first broke in, he was going to kill me. I… I'm not sure why they didn't."

"I think it was your drawings," said Leonardo. Pain spiked in his chest, but honor demanded honesty. "They thought you knew us."

"They were trying to get me to tell them where you were," she said. Another, stronger shiver ran through her and Leonardo automatically tightened his arm around her shoulders, trying to offer her comfort.

"Sierra," he said softly. "I… I'm sorry."

"I don't blame you," she said, turning to gaze into his eyes. "Leonardo, it wasn't your fault." She leaned toward him. Leonardo forgot to breathe. Her lips were so close to his face he could feel her breath on his cheek and her impossibly green eyes were like pools he felt he could fall into and drown…

"What da shell, Leo?" Raphael's gruff voice broke through the fog, bringing Leonardo back to earth like a cold splash of water.

Sierra scrambled back, her face flaming. Leonardo sat up, heat rising in his own cheeks, but he reached out, putting a protective hand the quivering woman's shoulder.

"Hiya, Raph," he managed, grinning sheepishly at his brother.

Raphael's amber gaze burned into Leo's before flicking to the woman. His eyes narrowed. "Yer feelin' better, I see," he grated out.

"Yeah. I… I'm sorry about before, Raph. I guess… I guess I got a little overwhelmed," said Leonardo. He drew a shaky breath, but met his brother's eyes. "It won't happen again, bro."

Raphael just shook his head. "Fearless, what _happened_ out there?" he asked. He maneuvered to the chair and sank down. Leonardo's eyes narrowed at the way Raph pointedly avoided looking at Sierra.

He shook his head. "I… I'm not sure," he said.

"T'ink, Leo," snapped Raphael. "Ya ran outta here, and den Gene an' da girls found ya layin' in da woods. Ya don't know what happened?"

"I really don't, Raph. I guess…" Leonardo's breath caught. A voice… wind… He felt himself beginning to tremble. "I… I'm not sure," he whispered again.

He felt Sierra's hand touch his knee, reassuring.

He lifted his head to look into Raphael's eyes. Raph was watching him with suppressed fury.

"I don't know what happened out there, Raph," said Leonardo, his voice steady. "But I'm ok now."

"Whatevah, Fearless," growled Raphael.

"I… I'm going to go lie down for a while," said Sierra. "I'm glad you're… feeling better, Leonardo."

"Thanks." Leo watched her leave the room, passing Ann as the other woman came out of the hall.

"Leo!" Ann came over to the couch and sat down next to him.

"Hiya, Ann," he said a bit sheepishly.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better," he said with a smile.

"Leo, about dat girl…" Raphael growled.

"What about her, Raph? What's your problem, anyway?" Leonardo's eyes narrowed as he met his brother's furious gaze.

"Raphael," Ann interjected. Amber eyes flicked to her face, burning.

"Dis don't concern ya, Ann," he growled.

Ann glared right back. "Don't you take that tone with me," she snapped.

"He's my brother!"

"That doesn't give you the right…"

Leonardo's gaze flicked from one to the other as if he were watching a tennis match. He cleared his throat.

"I… I um think I'll… go get a shower," he said finally. The pair ignored him, continuing to glare daggers at one another.

Leo shook his head. If Raph and Ann were arguing, things could be considered relatively normal.


	34. Chapter 34 Disaster

_Chapter 34 –Disaster-  
~~~_

Leatherhead followed the other mutants down the corridor, feeling extremely uneasy. The longer they were in Bishop's headquarters, the greater their chances of being found out.

Splinter stopped at a door, uncertain.

"This way," he whispered.

"Father," Donatello seemed uncertain. "I'm not sure…"

"What is it, Donatello?"

"Something doesn't feel right," replied the terrapin, frowning.

Splinter nodded, his eyebrows drawn together in concentration. "What do you suggest, my son?"

"I don't think we should go this way." Donatello was backing away from the door.

"Donatello. We must find Beverly quickly and leave this place," growled Leatherhead.

"There is no time," said Splinter softly. "Donatello, what do you wish to do?"

"I… I don't know, Father." Don shook his head, uncertain.

"We must move forward," said Splinter decisively. "Her scent leads in this direction."

"Sensei, what if Donny's right? I mean, she's his wife, right? Maybe we should go another way," said Michelangelo, his voice quavering slightly.

Splinter shook his head. Motioning to indicate the others should follow, he pushed the swinging door open and moved cautiously through. It lead to another passage way. This one had several more doors on each side, each sporting a card-slot.

"We will need to find a guard," said Leatherhead quietly. "They carry the access keys on their person."

Donatello shook his head. "No, LH, we don't want to risk detection until we get Bev. You and I can break through these locks without too much trouble."

"You are right Donatello," said the crocodilian, nodding. They moved toward the first door. Don knelt beside the panel, drawing a small pouch of tools from his belt. He loosened and removed the covering, confident now, working in his element. With the adjustment of a few wires, the door slid open. They all crouched, ready for anything, but the room proved to be an empty laboratory.

"Her scent is strong here," said Splinter softly.

"She was here," said Don softly. "Well, we might as well check the other rooms before moving on. He sighed, releasing his frustration, and moved to the next door. Three more rooms proved to be what appeared to be office space. When the door to the fourth room slid open, Don's eyes lit up. "Jackpot," he whispered.

"What is it, my son?" asked Splinter.

Leatherhead shifted, uneasy. Whatever had spooked Donatello initially was pressing on his consciousness. They had been there too long, and this corridor was a dead-end. They needed to find Beverly and get out. Even Michelangelo's usual stream of wise-cracks was silent, and LH could feel the fear rolling off the youngest turtle in waves.

"It's a computer," said Don. "If I can have five minutes, I can probably hack into their system and figure out where they're holding Bev. It will save us a lot of time checking the wrong area."

"All right, Donatello," said Splinter. "But be swift, my son."

The sense of urgency was growing, making it difficult for Leatherhead to control his desire to storm down the hall and _find_ guards to fight.

Donatello sat down at the desk. His fingers flew over the keys as images flashed across the screen.

"Looks like the holding cells are down one more level," he said, half to himself. "They would have Beverly there… Wait a minute, they've got a file on her." His eyes widened as he skimmed and he swore under his breath. "She's scheduled for… some sort of testing. That must be why they had her in the lab. We've got to find her."

"Let us go then," growled Leatherhead. The thought of Bishop or his men performing _tests_ on the woman was enough to set his blood boiling in his veins. He could only imagine what Donatello was feeling.

"There's something else…" Donatello paused, his eyes scanning the screen as his frown deepened.

"Donatello, there is no time." Splinter's hiss seemed to break through Don's spell. His head snapped up and he nodded.

"Sorry, Sensei. You're right, let's go."

Michelangelo had been standing near the door, his weapons clutched in his hands, keeping watch.

"Guys, we've got company," he whispered. Immediately the others moved as one toward the door, just as guards poured into the room. Leatherhead felt his last vestiges of control beginning to slip, his animal instincts coming to the surface, driving him to attack in a frenzy.

_No!_ he thought. _Not here, in this enclosed space. If I lose control now, I will attack my friends as well as my enemies, unable to distinguish them. _

His tail lashed out, catching one of the men in the ribs. The guard fell without so much as a cry, the air driven from his chest. Others surged forward, leveling guns at the intruders.

"Stay where you are! You're all under arrest…" The man's words got no further as a spin-kick from Splinter sent him crashing into the crowd. The fighting began then, thick and fast. The close quarters made it difficult for the men to use their guns, for fear of hitting their fellows. Still, a shot exploded in the room, and Leatherhead saw Splinter spin and fall, clutching at his shoulder.

With a roar, the crocodilian attacked. The scent of blood excited his senses, driving him to lash out with fury. In a blur, the room was leveled. Not a single human remained standing. Slowly, Leatherhead became aware of someone calling, from far away.

_Leatherhead! LH, stop! Stop! It's us… your friends. LH, don't you know me? It's Donatello…_

The voice was high with fear and anguish. LH turned slowly, his vision taking in prey… _No!_… Something green… soothing… A voice he knew, familiar and strong. A voice of friendship. Slowly, the heat left him. He swayed, feeling weak from his exertion. The smell of blood was thick in the air. A groan told him that one of the guards still lived, but when he glanced at the human, he knew it would not be for long.

"D… Don…atello?" whispered Leatherhead, feeling sick, hot shame pour over him.

"LH, it's ok. We're ok." Donatello stood up from behind the desk where he and his brother had taken refuge. Slowly, he approached the crocodilian. "Are… are you… ok now?" he asked.

"I… think so," answered Leatherhead, giving his head a shake.

"Dude," Michelangelo stood up, his blue eyes taking in the scene with horror. When he glanced at Leatherhead though, his expression was one of awe. "Dude. You were _scary._"

"I am sorry, my friends," whispered LH, feeling the weight of guilt.

"Leatherhead, you _saved_ us. Those men were armed and we were being overwhelmed. You had no choice," said Donatello firmly.

A groan had him turning. "Splinter," Don whispered, rushing back around the desk. Leatherhead slowly approached, fearing the scent of blood might set him off again.

The rat was lying on the floor behind the desk. Donatello knelt beside him, cradling his head. "Sensei." His voice was filled with pain and worry.

"I… am… all right, Donatello," whispered Splinter. Don shifted to get a better look at his wound, and the rat hissed through his teeth.

"Sensei, you're hurt. We've got to get you out of here."

"No. Leave me. Go to Beverly," whispered Splinter.

"Father, we can't leave you." Donatello leaned close, sliding his arms under Splinter's form, gently lifting him. "We never leave anyone behind."

"You must go, my son. She needs you…" Splinter's voice was weak.

"Leatherhead. Can you get Splinter out of here?" asked Don, his voice decisive.

The crocodilian nodded. "What of you and Michelangelo?"

"Mike's going with you. I'll go after Beverly," said Don. He met Leatherhead's eyes with a determined gaze.

"Donatello, no!" Splinter's hand reached up, his claws brushing his son's shoulder.

"I have no choice, Father," said Don quietly. He lifted the rat's body with incredible gentleness, setting him into Leatherhead's arms. "Keep him safe, LH."

"I will, my friend."

Knowing further argument was useless, Leatherhead started toward the door.

"I ain't goin'."

"What?" Don's voice went high with alarm and anger.

"I'm not going, Don."

Leatherhead turned to see Michelangelo staring down his brother, his stance forward and his eyes firmly on Don's face.

"I'm not leavin' you here to fight Bishop alone. LH can get Splinter somewhere safe. I'm going with _you._"

Donatello's shoulders slumped. "Mikey, you can't," he whispered.

"There's no time to argue," said Leatherhead sharply. He could feel Splinter's body, limp in his arms. The rat had passed out from the shock and blood loss. "Donatello, Michelangelo is right, you should not go alone."

"All right." Don's shoulders slumped with defeat. "Let's go."

Leatherhead nodded. He headed the way they'd come, ducking down the corridor. He heard Donatello and Michelangelo behind him. They stepped out into the hall… just as a crowd of guards came around the corner. The men ran toward them with shouts. Don and Mike took defensive stances, their weapons at the ready.

"Donatello!" Leatherhead's cry made the turtle's head snap around.

"Leatherhead, get him _out_ of here!" he shouted. "We'll catch up with you…" Even as he spoke, the guards were upon them, and they were fighting for their lives. Leatherhead hesitated only a moment.

_If I trade Splinter's life for his, Donatello will never forgive me._

Feeling as though his heart were being torn from his chest, he turned, running down the hall with speed no mere human could match. At the entry vent, he paused, looking back long enough to see Donatello, on the ground, squirming beneath a small mountain of human guards. Michelangelo was struggling wildly, but he too had been disarmed and it was clear they had been captured.

Leatherhead wavered for a moment. The urge to run to his friends' aid was strong. The rat in his arms twitched, drawing one slow ragged breath. LH knew what he had to do. With a heavy heart, he ducked through the hole, disappearing through the maze of tunnels.

_I will come back for you, my friend,_ he thought desperately. Tears slid down his cheeks.

_I will not leave you, Donatello. I will be back._

_

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A/N: No, it's not your imagination playing cruel tricks. The green arrow at the bottom of the page will work today, this one time, because tomorrow I am going to be out of town, and so today I am leaving you two chapters.**

**I hope that after this chapter you will forgive me if I remind you of the favorable conclusion to come just this one last time. **

**I hope you all had a beautiful holiday (for those of us celebrating Thanksgiving this week) and that you have a safe and happy weekend and are looking forward to the Season to come, whether you celebrate with a tree, menorah, Kwanzaa table, or whatever traditions the wide and diverse crowd who frequent this site enjoy. Happy Holidays, one and all.**


	35. Chapter 35 In the River

**A/N: The song Sierra plays is an old folk song, _Down to the River to Pray_.** **One of my favorite versions is done by Alison Krauss. Credit goes to .  
**

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**_Chapter 35 –In the River-  
~~~_

Gene Spencer woke from his nap feeling refreshed and optimistic. He stretched, looking around the small room that had been designated as his and Marjory's during their stay at the farmhouse. The floorboards were worn but smooth under his feet and while the head-board of the bed looked antique, the mattress and bedding were only slightly worn.

_They must have refurnished this place,_ he thought, _as their family grew._ He passed a hand over the headboard, admiring the workmanship. Intricate leaves and vines had been carved into the wood. The varnish had the soft sheen of having been well-cared for. _They really are a remarkable group,_ thought Gene. _So diverse and yet so close-knit. _

A raised voice, muffled by the door, had him turning in alarm. He crossed the room, opening the door, fearing the worst, but relaxed after only a moment. Raphael and Ann were clearly arguing. Gene shook his head.

_And I was just thinking how well they all get along,_ he thought ruefully. _Well, all couples argue. I'm sure they'll work it out. Still, that Ann is a brave soul. I certainly wouldn't have the guts to shout at Raphael._

He closed the door quietly, not wanting to listen in to the couple's fight. He'd barely made it back across the room when a soft knock sounded at the door.

"Gene? Are you awake?"

He hurried to open the door. Sierra stood framed there. He noticed her hands were shaking slightly, though her gaze was steady.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" she asked.

"No, I just got up," said Gene with a smile. "Come in, sit down."

He closed the door behind her, leaving it open just a crack, to muffle the sounds of the continuing argument. Sierra winced as Raphael's gruff voice rumbled from downstairs. She made her way across the room and perched on a small chair. Gene smiled and sat down on the bed.

"I'm sorry to bother you," she made a helpless gesture. "I… I woke up and heard shouting."

"I'm sure they're fine," soothed Gene. "Not all men are like Derrick, Sierra."

Sierra managed a small smile. "I know."

Gene watched as she pushed a loose strand of hair back away from her face and carefully avoided his gaze.

"Sierra, what's wrong?" he asked, falling into the gentle tone of long familiarity with her moods. "Something's bothering you. You know Raphael and Ann are ok, don't you? I really don't think he'll do her any harm."

"Oh, I know." She shook her head. "Raphael isn't the type to hit her. He's… a little rough around the edges, but…" She managed a smile. "He's a good… person. They all are."

"Then what is it?" asked Gene.

"I… Gene… do you… Do you think Leonardo and his brothers are…" She shook her head, trailing off with a shake of her head.

"What?"

"Well, do you think of them as… as people?"

She looked up, finally meeting his eyes. Gene was startled at the intensity of emotion in her gaze.

"I'm not sure I understand your question," he said carefully. "They're sentient beings, certainly."

Sierra made a gesture of frustration with her hand. "I mean… well… what do you think of… of the girls? Beverly considers herself married to Donatello. And Austin to Michelangelo. And Raphael and Ann…" She winced again as a particularly loud shout echoed.

Gene looked at her thoughtfully. "Do you mean, do I think it's wrong that they're with human girls?"

Sierra flushed, but nodded slowly. "Does it seem… unnatural to you?"

He considered her for a moment. "I think you're asking me if I consider the boys and their father to be… animals, is that right?" he asked quietly.

Her blush deepened. "No," she shook her head decisively. "It's obvious they're not animals… at least… I don't think so."

"Sierra, are you asking me about the morality of their relationships?"

"I… I guess so."

Gene shook his head, smiling. "Well, I have to confess, when I first met Ann, I was… a bit shocked at the idea. But having spent time with the boys and Splinter, now I feel safe in saying it's no different than two people of a different _race_ being together."

"So… if your daughter came home and said she was dating a mutant…" Sierra mouth twitched as if she were fighting a grin.

"Sierra," said Gene with a smile. "If I had children, I could only _hope_ my daughter would want to date as fine a young man as one of these boys."

Her smile was so relieved, Gene's breath caught in his throat. _Oh my._

"Sierra," he said hesitantly. "I have the feeling these questions… aren't entirely hypothetical." Her blush confirmed his suspicions. She shifted on the chair, avoiding his gaze. "You… have feelings for Leonardo, don't you?"

"No! I mean… I… I don't know, Gene." Sierra got up, pacing across the room, leaning heavily on the stick. "I mean, when he looks at me… and his eyes! Gene, he has the most beautiful eyes…" She turned to face him. "I'm crazy, aren't I?"

"Sierra." He got up and came to her, grasping her arms in his hands. "You're _not _crazy. He's an amazing person. I'd be shocked if you _didn't_ have feelings for him. In fact," he smiled, teasing. "I'm kind of glad Marjory is safely at Leatherhead's. I'm not sure I want that guy around my wife."

Sierra's laugh was cut off by a sound at the door. Gene looked up to see Leonardo, his hand raised, obviously in the act of knocking.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I… I was just coming to… to see if you needed anything."

He was avoiding Gene's gaze, his eyes hard behind the mask.

"We're fine, Leo," said Gene. He released Sierra's arms and stepped back. "How are you feeling?"

"'m fine," muttered the turtle, still avoiding the man's eyes. He held himself tense.

_I wonder what's bothering him,_ thought Gene. _Surely it's not the first time his brother's had a fight with his girlfriend. He seemed so peaceful before. I'd really hoped he was coming to some sort of healing._

"April wants to know if you guys will want something to eat soon," said Leo. "It's getting late."

"Is it suppertime all ready?" asked Sierra.

Leonardo looked up for an instant before his dark eyes flicked away again.

"Yes. April says she's going to cook whether we eat it or not. She gets…" He almost smiled. "A little tense. Cooking helps her relax."

"It's easier to pretend things are normal," said Gene. "It's a common response to crisis. We should all eat something, anyway." _Especially you, Leo. You look a little… drawn. All this stress can't be good for you._

"Yeah. So… I'll tell her you'll be down?"

"Sure, that'd be great." Gene crossed the room toward the door. Leonardo's dark eyes snapped up and he took a step back.

"I'll… see you downstairs," he said, turning and leaving the room.

"Now, what do you suppose _that_ was all about?" said Gene, a bit bewildered by the turtle's behavior.

"I don't know," said Sierra, sounding as confused as he was. "I wonder if he's just embarrassed. You know, because of the argument. I don't think they're used to having outsiders know their family business."

"Could be," said Gene with a sigh. "Why don't we go downstairs? Maybe I can give April a hand in the kitchen."

"Ok."

Gene moved aside to let Sierra precede him out of the room. He noticed she was moving more easily as she became accustomed to using the walking stick.

"How's your side?" he asked.

"Better. It itches," she complained. "Donatello said I shouldn't scratch at the stitches, though."

"He's right. How does your arm feel?"

"Not bad actually. Maybe tonight I'll get out my guitar," she said.

"Can you strum with your arm in a cast?" Gene reached out to steady her as she started down the stairs, but she held the railing firmly.

"I don't know, but I'm going to try," she said.

***

The little family sat around the table, picking at the food. April bullied them into at least trying her pasta and cheese sauce, but Gene was certain no one actually ate more than a few bites. Only Casey ate heartily, seemingly unaware of the daggers Raphael and Ann were glaring at each other over the table and Leonardo's quiet, downcast countenance.

The blue-banded turtle hardly said a word to anyone throughout the meal and once, when Gene passed him the butter, he actually flinched away from the man's hand. Gene gave him a startled look, but Leo avoided his eyes, simply thanking him for the butter and setting it down as if it were contaminated.

Finally the strained meal was over. Leonardo stood up and started clearing the table.

"I'll give you a hand," said Gene easily.

Leonardo shot him a startled look from those dark eyes. "That's ok, I've got it."

"Leo." Gene shook his head. "Have I done something to offend you?"

"I… don't know what you're talking about."

Gene stepped closer. "Then why won't you even look at me? You've been acting strangely all afternoon and I'd like to know why."

When Leo looked up, his eyes were hard. "I heard what you said," he said softly. "To Sierra."

"What exactly did you hear?" Gene asked, perplexed.

"That you wouldn't want me near your wife. It's ok, Gene. A lot of people aren't comfortable around us. We're… different. Just don't pretend. We're mutants. That doesn't make us _stupid._" Leo turned away, stacking the plates with a little more force than absolutely necessary.

Gene reached out, taking hold of Leonardo's arm. Leo turned, scowling.

"Leo," said the man. "I have nothing but respect for you and your family. Please believe that. You only overheard part of what Sierra and I were talking about and believe me, you've misunderstood."

Leonardo looked at the man. Gene met his eyes steadily. After a moment, some of the trembling tension went out of the turtle. He nodded. "Ok," he said. "I'm sorry, Gene."

"You've had a lot on your mind," said Gene kindly. "Friends?" He held out his hand.

Leonardo hesitated for only an instant before taking it with a smile. "Friends."

***

True to her word, Sierra brought out her guitar. She sat on the couch, more relaxed than Gene had seen her in some time as she strummed the strings rather clumsily. Casey and April drifted into the living room, sitting on the other end of the couch. Raphael maneuvered his way into an armchair, and even Ann perched in another chair, the distance between them only emphasized by the way she avoided looking at Raph.

Even Leonardo came to sink into the loveseat where Gene sat, leaning back with his legs stretched out. Sierra began to strum in a steady rhythm, humming the first few bars before her soft, rich voice filled the room.

_As I went down in the river to pray… Studyin' about that good old way… And who shall wear the starry crown… Good Lord show me the way…_

Gene smiled. The old folk song was one of Sierra's favorites and it showed off her rich alto voice well. After a moment, he joined in, his baritone mingling with her higher notes.

_Oh, sisters, let's go down… let's go down, come on down… Oh, sisters, let's go down… down to the river to pray._

April added her soft soprano to the chorus, followed by Ann. Gene was so busy listening to the girl's voices blend and harmonize, he was startled to hear Leonardo shyly join in. _I had no idea he could _sing_, _thought Gene, listening to the turtle pick up the notes accurately. _Goodness... he does seem more... there's something about his eyes. I wonder what did happen out there._

_As I went down in the river to pray… studying about that good ol' way… And who shall wear the robe and crown… Good Lord show me the way._

_Oh, brothers let's go down… let's go down, come on down. Oh, brothers, let's go down… down to the river to pray._

As the music swelled, Sierra looked up to meet Leonardo's gaze, her green eyes shining.

_Whoa,_ thought Gene. He felt a smile cross his features. _I've never seen her look that happy, except when she was playing with Hayley. _He glanced over at Leonardo. The turtle was returning Sierra's look with an uncomplicated smile. _Hmm, it looks as though the feeling could be mutual,_ he mused. _I just hope this can work out for them. If two people ever deserved to find some happiness in this life, surely it's these two._

His thought, and the music, was interrupted by the sound of an engine. Leonardo and Raphael were on their feet in an instant. Sierra stopped playing, nearly dropping her precious instrument in her haste to get to her feet. Raphael struggled with the crutches, swearing, as Leonardo sprinted toward the door.

"Don! Mikey! Splinter!"

Gene heard Leo calling to his father and hurried outside where the turtle was already throwing the doors of the van open.

"Leonardo." Leatherhead stepped down from the driver's seat. "Come quickly. I have done what I can for your father." The crocodilian's tone was urgent.

"Splinter? What happened? Where's Donny? Where's Mike? LH, _where are my brothers?_" Leonardo's voice rose with panic.

Gene rushed forward, sensing disaster. He vaguely heard footsteps on the porch behind him as the others poured out of the house as well. Leatherhead cradled a ragged bundle in his arms. Gene's breath caught in his throat as he recognized Splinter and saw a blood-soaked make-shift bandage wound firmly around the unconscious rat's shoulder.

"Leonardo," said Leatherhead quietly. "I am sorry, my friend." He shook his head. "Michelangelo and Donatello… they have been taken."


	36. Chapter 36 Revelation

_Chapter 36 –Revelation-  
~~~_

A vibrating pulse thrummed through the room, the machinery beating with a pulse as if it were a living thing. Individual heartbeats blended, drowned in the overbearing hum, muted in the biological suspension fluid housed in the containers stacked around the room.

The heartbeats were slow and steady, unaware of their surroundings, suspended in the fluid. One heartbeat was fluttering, out of time with the rhythm of the room, pounding wildly as if it would leap from the owner's chest. The turtle struggled violently against the restraints holding him, to the grim amusement of the man standing over the table.

"You are wasting valuable energy, Michelangelo," Bishop intoned, leaning closer. He smiled into the wide blue eyes staring up at him with a mix of unbridled fury and terror. If the turtle would've spoken, Bishop didn't know, because his voice was muffled behind a mask, not a small one like a hospital would use, but a cupped, solid plastic thing firmly strapped over the mutant's face. At the moment it was administering oxygen.

The man motioned to one of the white-coated men standing at the controls. The oxygen mixed with a sedative. The turtle, realizing what was happening, struggled against the air being forced into his lungs, fought to keep his eyes open even as the tranquilizer took effect, but it was no use.

Bishop watched as his last vestiges of consciousness slipped away, his limbs twitching in the restraints before going limp. He smiled down at his helpless subject for a moment before motioning to the guards who came forward. They removed the straps holding the turtle down and lifted him to a platform.

Bishop himself pushed a button, lowering the platform into a glass tube. Slowly, the green fluid's level rose, encasing the turtle, suspending him in a liquid prison.

"Rest well, my friend," whispered the man. He gazed at the turtle with satisfaction before turning away. "You'll need all your strength when we release you again for further testing. For now, I must go and have a… talk, with your brother."

***

Hamato Donatello squirmed against the metal rings binding his limbs to the table, mentally reciting the worst curses he knew. The silent rant did nothing to improve his outlook. He was, once again, in Bishop's lab. His brothers were absent, two safely far away at the farmhouse, but the third… The third was _here_, somewhere. The thought of his youngest brother in danger was more frightening to the genius turtle than the knowledge of his own dubious future.

_You'll never escape, Turtle. And now I have your brothers as well…_  
_Michelangelo appeared before him, hanging lifeless at the end of a rope, the noose tight around his neck. He was limp, dangling. The blue eyes were clouded over, staring into eternity._

Donatello gave himself a mental shake. The fever-dream had been so vivid and sometimes it returned to him, even now, in his nightmares.

_Jack is in jail. He can't touch us. Can't touch Mikey. But Bishop..._

So far, Bishop hadn't done anything more diabolical than restrain him and take a blood sample. Donatello had expected far worse from the insane man, especially considering his current position, strapped to a vivisection table. He was waiting for the scalpels and saws to be brought out. Bishop hadn't even come to gloat. Donatello was growing increasingly afraid. Not for himself, but for Michelangelo. Whatever Bishop was doing, Don knew it couldn't be good.

_I'm sorry, Bev,_ thought Don, for the hundredth time. _We tried. Splinter… Father… I just hope LH got you out ok. At least Bishop doesn't have _you. _And LH, I hope you got out, too, that you didn't stop or turn back to fight… but you wouldn't. You got Splinter out. I know you did. _Nothing less would be bearable.

Donatello's thoughts were interrupted by a man who strode into the room, his sunglasses glinting eerily in the light. John Bishop walked toward the table. Donatello forced himself to keep his eyes on the man, though his heart rate sped up and he could hear his pulse pounding in his ears so clearly, he was certain Bishop could hear it too.

"Greetings, Donatello," said the man, smiling as if he were offering salutations to an old friend. "How kind of you to join us."

"What've you done with Mikey, Bishop?" snarled Donatello, his usually calm voice harsh with fury.

"Oh, don't worry." Bishop showed teeth. "He's… indisposed for the moment, but he'll come to no harm. Yet."

"You… you stuck him in one of those tubes, didn't you?" Donatello could see by the twitch of the man's mouth that he'd guessed correctly. "You scumbag! Get my brother _out_ of there!" He struggled against the restraints again, knowing already it was no use. The steel bands were more than a match for his strength.

Bishop smiled. "You're wasting your time," he said calmly. "After the crocodilian escaped, I had new tables designed. You're not going anywhere, Donatello. Not until I see fit to release you."

"And why would you do _that?_" snapped Don, glaring at him. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck, pooling in the hollow where his shell and skin met in a cold little puddle. Another voice was pressing at the edges of his memory.

_Answer the questions and I'll let you go…_

"It's really too bad that such a mind is wasted," mused Bishop, distracting Don. "You may be a _mutant_," he spat the word as if it tasted bad. "But you are, undeniably, brilliant."

Donatello waited, watching the man with burning brown eyes.

"You did, after all," continued Bishop, ignoring the turtle's fury, "Get past my security, hack into a _highly classified_ computer system, and _almost_ manage to, once again, remove a valuable specimen from my facility." His voice rose with anger. Donatello stared at the man, his own fury burning white-hot. He used the anger as a shield, keeping the fear that clawed at the back of his mind at bay.

"However," Bishop continued, visibly containing himself. "I find myself in a rather… unusual position. I could, of course, dissect you and your brother, gleaning some limited scientific insight from your unusual physical makeup."

Donatello didn't so much as twitch. He wouldn't give the man the satisfaction of seeing the tremor the word _dissect_ sent down his spine. He put every ounce of his energy into keeping a passive expression and an unmoving gaze.

_I bet they've got your dissection table all picked out. I bet they have it all set up for when you get back. Straps, lights, scalpels… Yeah, I bet they've got plans for you. Big plans… _Jack Koban's voice echoed in Don's memory and he had to work at controlling the tremors that threatened to shake his limbs.

_I am a ninja. I will _not_ show fear._

"However." Bishop stood up straight, turning slightly away from Donatello, as if he were merely discussing the chances of a sports team in an upcoming match up. "I have an… alternative proposition you may wish to consider."

"What do you _want_, Bishop?" ground out Donatello.

Bishop turned, his eyebrows rising. He removed his sunglasses, leaning closer to smile into Donatello's eyes.

"I want _you_, Donatello," said the man quietly. When Don gave him a confused look, he smiled again. "I want your _knowledge._ We have a genetics division which could use your unique experience…"

The laughter burst from Donatello before he could stop it.

Bishop's eyes widened with shock and fury as the turtle continued to laugh until he could barely get a breath.

"You… you want me to… to come… and _work_ for you?" Donatello gasped out.

Bishop stood up with fury written in every line of his posture and the scowl etched deep into his face.

"You will, of course, need to consider what I'm offering you," growled the man. "And the… alternatives."

Donatello's laughter stopped just as suddenly as it began.

"I don't need to _consider_ anything, Bishop," said the turtle with infuriating calm. "The answer is no."

"I think you'll change your mind, _turtle_," snapped Bishop. "Especially if you value your precious _family._"

Donatello kept his gaze steady with an effort. _I'm sorry Mike, Beverly, _he thought.

"No way, Bishop," he snapped.

"We'll see, Donatello," said the man, walking out of the room. "We'll see."

Donatello laid his head back against the table. _Shell,_ he thought. _I'd almost rather be back in that barn, facing Jack. Almost._

***

In another part of the building, Beverly paced across a small white room. She paused long enough to kick the wall, before stalking back to the bed. With a heavy sigh, she sank down onto the thin mattress.

How long had it been? At least two days. It wasn't easy to keep track of time, with the lights constantly on and meals that came seemingly regular intervals. There was never a long stretch of time when she was left completely alone, to indicate night time.

Not that Beverly could've slept. She was on edge… waiting. Waiting for a rescue, or for Bishop to decide she was no longer of any use to him. Which would come first, she didn't know. All she knew was if she didn't get out of this room soon, she would surely go completely out of her mind.

A sound warned her before the door swung open and Bishop himself strode into the room. Beverly was on her feet in an instant, taking a defensive crouch. She was prepared to give the scientists who usually accompanied the man a fight, but to her surprise, this time John Bishop was alone.

"Relax, Mrs. Hamato," said the man, smirking.

Beverly edged back, away from him, watching him warily.

_What's he grinning about?_ she wondered, but didn't speak the thought aloud. If he wanted to tell her, he would. Otherwise, he would count it a victory to keep the tidbit of information from his prisoner.

"I have just been visiting with your… brother-in-law," said Bishop, watching with a smile as the woman's eyes widened.

Beverly straightened, glaring at him, but didn't speak. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her react.

"We had a most interesting conversation," the man said, chuckling. "At first he denied knowing you at all. Can you imagine?"

_He was protecting me,_ she thought. _I wonder who it is? Probably Leo. Is he ok? Oh, Donny… I hope you're not here. I don't want your brothers getting hurt, either, but I couldn't bear it if this monster got his hands on you._

"Yes…" Bishop turned on his heel, stalking away a few paces to admire himself in the one-way glass. Beverly saw his smirk in the reflection. "He was quite adamant. Of course, in the end, when he realized we already had the information, he admitted the relationship. Then he tried to claim he was your husband. It was… most amusing." The man chuckled again.

_Good for him. Keep up the misdirection. Let Bishop believe he's got the right girl. _"What did you do with him, you _scumbag_?" hissed Bev, unable to stomach the man's twisted amusement a moment longer.

"Oh, don't worry," said Bishop, turning from the window. "He's quite safe."

"If you've so much as put a scratch in his shell," she growled.

Bishop laughed out loud, holding up his hand.

"Don't _worry,_" he said. "Michelangelo is fine, I assure you."

"_Mikey?_"

Bev felt as if she'd been punched in the gut. She'd expected Leonardo to come… the strong leader of the clan. Not Mikey… not dear, sweet Mikey who whooped over video games, who was about to become a dad, the first of his clan to have a chance at fatherhood, who still suffered occasional nightmares from his last visit to this place, his last encounter with this man.

"Let him _go._" She hissed the words, her eyes narrowing and her fists clenching in fury. In another instant she would've launched herself at the man, but his next words sent a cold lump of ice settling into the bottom of her stomach.

"I've also been talking to _Donatello._"

"D… Don?" Beverly felt as though all the air had been sucked from the room. She swayed, feeling sick.

"Yes. You see, Splinter and another _freak_ of nature, that alligator which escaped me a few years ago, broke in here." For the first time, there was a flash of anger in the man's eyes. "The _rat_ and the other one escaped, but they left the turtles behind."

"Splinter?" Beverly sank down on the edge of the bed. She hated herself for allowing weakness to show, but her knees would no longer hold her up.

_He's lying. He's got to be. Splinter would never leave his sons behind. Where's Leo? Why didn't he come? He's lying. He's got to be. Something's not right._

"Yes. The rat won't live long. One of my men reported he'd been hit. The crocodile carried him off. Probably to make a quick meal of him in the tunnels."

Bishop smirked. "The scent of blood sends it into a frenzy, you know. It killed twelve men before it made off with the rat. Two more won't survive the night, I'm told. The injuries were... gruesome. It pretends to be human, to be civilized. It's certainly intelligent. But it is, after all, just an _animal_."

Beverly shot to her feet. "LeatherHead is more civilized than you, Bishop. He's my _friend. _He's gentle and kind and he is _not an animal!"_ Her fist connected with the man's chin, knocking him back a step. She felt something _crack_ in her arm, but she didn't care. She followed with a quick left jab to his gut and tried to follow through with a sweep, but Bishop recovered and blocked the blow and the kick.

He held her wrist in an iron grip, smiling into her eyes. "_Animals_," he hissed again. "Like the _thing_ you carry in your womb."

"I'm _not pregnant_, you _idiot_," she shouted, wrenching her arm out of his grasp. "I'm _not._ You…" She glared at him, reckless in her grief and anger. "You got the _wrong girl_."

Something like humor flickered in Bishop's eyes and a slow smile crossed his features.

"You… you don't even _know_, do you?" he asked. He shook his head. "Incredible. Didn't he _tell_ you? What, did the clinic… No… they couldn't have… Hmm."

"What are you _talking_ about?" she growled.

"My dear girl." Bishop leaned toward her and Beverly took an instinctive step back. "There has been no mistake. _You_ are carrying the mutant's spawn."

Her eyes narrowed, glaring at him. "You're crazy."

"I assure you, I am many things, but that is one accusation which is unfounded."

"I am _not_ pregnant." Beverly said the words again, fighting down the flicker of hope that couldn't help but flutter in her chest. _Donny and I, with a baby? _

"Oh, but my dear," said Bishop with a small, cold smile. "We've run extensive tests with some very accurate equipment. You _are_."


	37. Chapter 37 Blessing

**A/N:  
_Ani_ means "(big) brother"  
_Imouto_ means "(little) sister"  
_Ootosan_ means "Father"  
_Kooun_ means "Good luck"  
_-chan_ is an affectionate honorific for a younger woman or sister, the female equivalent of "_-kun_".**

**

* * *

**_Chapter 37 –Blessing-  
~~~_

"_Splinter!_"

The cry tore from Leonardo's throat. He rushed to Leatherhead. The crocodilian turned, cradling his father to his scaly chest. Leo saw with relief that the rat's chest rose and fell steadily. Gene Spencer hurried up as Marjory climbed out of the van.

"He is stable," said Leatherhead, "But the wound should be cleaned and properly bandaged."

"Let's get him inside," said Gene. "I can help you."

Leatherhead carried Splinter into the house, followed closely by the man. Leo started to follow, but Marjory Spencer's voice stopped him.

"Leonardo, please. Help me get Austin into the house."

"Austin? Are you ok?" He glanced at the older woman. _What about the baby?_

"She's ok," said Marjory. "The baby is fine. Austin, come on now, Honey, let's go inside."

"_Ani,_ he… has Michelangelo," Austin whispered. "And Donny…" Fresh tears made their way down her cheeks, tracing the pink lines already etched there.

"They're going to get them back, Austin," said Marjory with the soothing tone of oft-repeated words. "Leatherhead promised. He's not going to abandon them. It will be all right. Come along, dear. I'll make you a cup of tea."

Austin's breathing was ragged and hitched. She stood like a statue, refusing to move forward.

Leo gently took her arm "_Imouto,_" he said. "Austin-chan, we will get him back."

The girl fell against Leonardo's plastron, winding her arms around his neck.

"Leo-san… bring him home," she sobbed.

"Austin," Leo gingerly wrapped his arms around the woman, patting her back a bit awkwardly. While Mike was affectionate to a fault and even Raph allowed the slight woman to hug him occasionally, Leonardo wasn't used to being clung to. His job had always been to lead. Ordinarily it was his brothers who comforted their wives.

_But Mike's not here to hold you. Oh, Austin, I'm sorry,_ he thought. _I never should have let them go. But Splinter…_

"Come on, Austin. We've got to see how Splinter's doing," said Leo gently. Austin nodded, letting him go. Marjory came over and put her arm around the girl's shoulder. Leo gratefully let the woman take her.

Inside, Leatherhead was standing over the couch where Gene was kneeling, wrapping clean bandages over his shoulder. Leonardo saw that the blood had been cleaned more thoroughly from the rat's fur. Leo watched as the man unhesitatingly treated Splinter's wound, touching the rat's fur without so much as a flinch. _I guess I was wrong,_ thought Leo. _He really does seem genuinely undisturbed by our mutation. He doesn't even seem to notice LH now._

"I've done all I can to make him comfortable," said Gene.

Leonardo approached the couch, relieved to see his father's chest rising and falling steadily. "Leatherhead, what happened? How…"

"It was a bullet from Bishop's guards," growled the crocodilian. "I removed the bullet at my Den, but I felt it was unsafe to remain in the city. Splinter is strong. He was awake before."

"Why isn't he waking up now?" asked April. Her voice cracked, giving away how close the red-head was to tears. Casey stood back from the couch, his arms crossed over his chest, scowling in obvious frustration.

"He has had a most difficult time," said Leatherhead. He looked at Leonardo. "I am afraid he was… unhappy with me, when he became aware that I left your brothers behind in order to save him."

Leonardo nodded. "You had no other choice. Is there anything else we can do for him, Leatherhead?" he asked softly.

LH shook his head. "No, Leonardo. For now, all he can do is rest and heal."

"Then we must begin planning," said Leo. "You'll need to tell me everything about Bishop's base. How you got in, where the containment cells are, everything."

"Leonardo…" The crocodilian looked down upon the turtle with an expression of concern. "Your father did not wish for you to fight."

"I don't have a choice, LH," replied Leo. "My brothers are in danger. Besides, I… I'm going to be all right." His voice wavered, but his gaze never did.

Leatherhead gazed at the blue-banded leader for a moment.

"It is good to have you back, my friend." He clapped Leo on the shoulder. Leo grinned.

"Leo?" April walked around the couch and came to face Leonardo. "What… what did you mean? Are you… are you ok? Really?"

"I am, Ape," Leonardo met the woman's gaze steadily. April looked into his eyes for a long moment. For the second time that day, Leonardo found himself wrapped up in a crushing embrace.

"I'm glad you're ok," she whispered before releasing the blue-banded turtle.

"How's Splinter?" asked Sierra a bit timidly, coming closer. Leonardo glanced at her. She looked uncertain, as if she were afraid to intrude.

"LH says he's going to be ok," he answered, fighting down the urge to put his arm around her. Suddenly Leonardo felt he wouldn't mind very much at all if Sierra needed comfort.

April had turned away and was kneeling beside the couch, brushing her hand gently over the rat's forehead, smoothing the ruffled fur.

"He's tough," she said. Tears were sliding down her cheeks. "He's strong. He'll be ok."

"We'll leave as soon as possible," Leonardo said quietly. "April, how's Casey's arm? Is he strong enough to fight?"

"What? Leo, you can't leave! Splinter…" April stood up, turning to face him.

"Splinter will be safe here. He has you here to look after him. Gene, too. He's had medical training. April, I can't leave them there. They would come, if it was me."

"But… Bishop got Don and Mikey." April shook her head. "Leo, you can't go alone. Wait… wait until Raph's leg heals…"

Leonardo shook his head. "April, you know I can't do that," he said quietly. "Don, Mikey and Bev don't have that kind of time."

"Ya ain't goin' alone, Leo," growled Casey. "I'm comin' too."

Leonardo looked up at the tall man. "You can drive, Casey," he said. April made a small noise of protest, but Casey nodded.

"All righ'."

"Leatherhead and I will leave as soon as he's ready," said Leonardo. "He can brief me on the way."

"L… Leo…nardo."

The voice was weak, hoarse. Leo knelt beside the couch as Splinter shifted. His ebony eyes flickered open and he looked around in confusion.

"Wh… where…?"

"You're home, Sensei," said Leo gently. "You're safe. Leatherhead brought you back to the farmhouse."

"Leatherhead." Splinter's tone was tinged with bitterness now. "I told him… leave me… Donatello… Michel… angelo." Tears slid down the sides of his face, wetting his fur and turning it dark.

"Leonardo and Leatherhead will get them back," Sierra spoke up. "They got me out. Leonardo can save the others. I know he can."

Splinter's gaze snapped to his son's face. "Leonardo," he whispered.

"Father. I will go. I will bring them back safely. I give you my word."

"No." The word was barely a whisper but everyone froze. Splinter met his son's eyes steadily despite his obvious pain. "You must not go, Leonardo."

"Father, I have to go and get them out." Leonardo took a deep breath. "I'm ready to pick up my swords. I'm ready to fight."

Onyx eyes met dark brown for several long heartbeats. Splinter reached for Leonardo.

"You must not go, my son," Splinter rasped. "You must not… Bishop…"

"Sensei…" Leonardo began to answer, but Raphael moved to stand beside him.

"Father. Leo's right. He's better, Sensei. I… I don't know exactly what happened," Raph shot his brother a look, "but he's… healed."

"Bishop… is a formidable foe," Splinter managed. "More than… one… can face alone."

"He will not be alone." Another voice broke in. Leatherhead moved into the room. "I will accompany him."

"And me. I'm drivin'." Casey Jones put in.

"Leonardo… my son…" Tears glittered in the black eyes.

"Sensei, I'm going. I… I want your blessing, _Ootosan_."

The rat's gaze turned away from his son. Leo could feel the fury radiating off Raphael as if it were waves of heat. A tremor of pain ran through him.

Leonardo got slowly to his feet. "Raph, stay with him," he said. "Gene will tend to his injury." He turned away from the couch. Raphael reached out with one hand and gripped his brother's shoulder.

Leonardo met Raphael's eyes and managed a small smile. Splinter's hand shot out, catching Leonardo's wrist. The turtle turned back toward the couch.

"My son." The old rat's voice was low, resigned. "Your katanas… they are here. In my room. Upstairs."

Leonardo smiled.

"Thank you, Father. I won't fail you."

Splinter's eyes stayed closed. His grip was firm on Leonardo's wrist. "Be safe, my son. _Kooun._"

***

Leonardo breathed in deeply, letting the breath out again slowly. He'd slipped into meditation more easily than ever before as the spiritual plane seemed to rise up to met him, familiar and welcoming. The strange Presence was quiet for the moment, making him almost wonder if the conversation in the woods had been a dream, a product of his over-stressed mind. But he could still sense something surrounding him, as tangible as a cloak and as comforting as his father's embrace.

He was waiting for Leatherhead to get some rest before they started the journey back to the city. Casey had been impatient to leave immediately, but Leo had a sense of peace.

_In… out. _

The slightest of sounds had his eyes snapping open. Sierra stood in the doorway, watching him.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

"You didn't," he answered quietly. "Please, come in." Leo got to his feet. He was hyper-aware of everything, the intense green of her eyes, the soft, fruity scent that wafted to him, the curl of her hair as it lay against her cheek.

The woman hesitated. "You… you're really going back to the city? After this… Bishop?"

"We have to," Leo said.

Sierra crossed the room, stopping a few steps away from him, not quite meeting his eyes.

"You got me out," she said, but it sounded almost like a question. "You got me out and you all came back safely. But there were three of you then. And this Bishop… he… he's captured two of your brothers."

"We'll get them back," said Leo quietly.

"But… your father, he taught you, didn't he?" Tears were sliding down her cheeks now. "Gene says he's a ninja _master._ And he had Michelangelo, Donatello _and_ Leatherhead with him."

"Yes."

"How… How can you go? Leonardo…" Sierra looked up, her green eyes so intense, Leo felt his breath catch in his chest. She came nearer, almost as if drawn against her will.

"Sierra, they're my brothers," he said gently. "I _have_ to go."

She was close now, so close he could see blue flecks in her green eyes.

"When… when you… disappeared…" she shivered. "Before Gene and the others brought you back, I thought we… I thought _I_ had lost you. I was… afraid." She was blushing now, but she pressed on, determined. "I didn't like that feeling, Leonardo."

Leonardo waited, his breath frozen in his chest. Sierra lifted her hand as if she would touch him. Something in her gaze faltered, and she lowered it again. Leonardo couldn't bear it. He reached up, catching her wrist gently.

"Sierra…"

He trembled, fearing she would jerk away. She tensed for an instant, but then her hand relaxed, coming up to cup his face. Leonardo's eyes widened. The woman's lips were inches from his mouth. Her breath touched his mouth, soft and warm.

"I don't want you to get hurt," she whispered.

"I have to go," he answered. He hesitated, longing to surge forward, to gather her up and hold her close, but fear held him back. What if she pushed him away in horror? What if she thought he was… a monster?

In the seconds it took for those thoughts to form, Sierra moved closer, closing the gap between them.

"Then I at least have to…"

Leonardo's breathing nearly stopped as she pressed her lips against his mouth, searching, longing. In an instant, he was returning the kiss, lost in the warmth of her touch, painfully aware of every inch of her warmth pressed against his plastron.

His arms came around her, gently drawing her near, but careful of her injuries. He cradled her against his plastron, terrified of hurting her and intoxicated with the sweet things her mouth was doing to his. A groan sounded from deep in his throat as her arm came around his shoulders.

Sierra pressed against him as if she could not get close enough. Her lips moved against his mouth, their tongues meeting, exploring. Finally she retreated, breaking the kiss. Her green eyes stared into his, clouded with yearning and confusion.

"Wow," breathed Leo, startling a giggle from the woman. She blushed furiously, pulling back, but not very strongly, her face a picture of uncertainty.

"Leonardo, I… I'm sorry… I…"

He could feel her body trembling under his arm.

"You're… sorry?" he whispered, feeling desolate. He loosened his hold, but he couldn't quite bear to let her go. Not yet. Not after that kiss.

She met his eyes. "No," she said softly. "Not really."

Leo tightened his arm around her and she relaxed against him.

"Me, either," he said softly.

"You really do have to go, don't you?" she whispered.

"Yes."

"Leonardo…" The pain in her voice tore at him. She trailed off, not quite asking him not to go.

"Sierra." He cupped his hand against her cheek, marveling in the silky-smooth skin under his fingers and the comfortable familiarity in the way his hand fit her face. "I can't make you a promise that I'll get through this, but I _can_ promise that I am not coming back without my brothers and my sister-in-law, and I can promise that I'll do my absolute best to get back to you."

She leaned back, looking into his eyes. "You're saying you have to protect them first, aren't you?" she asked softly.

Leonardo nodded. "They're my family," he said softly.

"I… I understand." Green eyes burned into his, as if she were memorizing every detail of his face. She gave him one last fierce squeeze before letting him go. "I'll wait for you."

Leonardo watched as she turned away and hurried out of the room, leaving him with only the remembered sensation of her lips pressing against his mouth and the faint scent of her perfume hanging in the air to remind him that what had just happened was real.

_Oh, Sierra. I wish… I wish things could be different. But Donny and Mike are counting on me. Bev and Austin, too. I'll come back to you. I can't say it, it's not honorable to speak an impossible promise, but I will._


	38. Chapter 38 Panic

_Chapter 38 –Panic-  
~~~_

Agent John Bishop watched through a window of one-way glass as the turtle once again tested the strength of the restraints holding him to the vivisection table. He frowned as the terrapin, giving in to frustration, strained with all its might against the bands. The computer monitor beside him beeped quietly, indicating a dramatic rise in heart rate.

_Could he possibly know he's impregnated the woman?_ thought Bishop. _But she wasn't aware of the pregnancy herself. Not surprising, since she's only a few weeks along. _

Donatello's eyes were closed now and he was drawing deep, slow breaths. Still, the monitor indicated his heart rate was out of control. A scowl crossed the man's features. It was almost as if the creature was panicking. When he'd captured the Turtles previously, they had made most satisfactory subjects, because throughout their containment none of them had ever lost its head. It was almost as if they _were_ intelligent, sentient creatures.

Never once had any of them pleaded for their lives, begged for mercy. Leonardo, in particular, had met his gaze with a cold, calculating fury. Of the four, only Donatello seemed less likely to lose control, to allow his animal instincts to take over. He'd seemed level-headed, as well as incredibly intelligent. But now, as Bishop watched, he was losing his struggle against fear and seemed on the verge of hysteria.

_Could this be a recurrence of the Outbreak virus? Yet there doesn't seem to be any sign of the secondary mutation._

Donatello was struggling again, pulling at the restraints, particularly those binding his wrists. If he didn't stop soon, he would injure himself. Bishop moved toward the intercom, pushing the button more firmly than strictly necessary.

"Doctor Merriner."

"Yes, Agent Bishop?"

"Come to Laboratory 23 immediately. Bring your collection equipment and a sedative."

"Yes, Sir."

Bishop watched through the glass as the mutant became more and more distressed. In the five minutes it took his scientist assistant to enter the room, his struggles had become increasingly more frantic until Bishop was certain he would injure himself.

_We can't have that, now, can we? A damaged specimen is of little use to me. He'll have to be sedated and contained. Blast._

Scowling, the man left the observation area and entered the room where Dr. Merriner was struggling to take a simple blood sample from the thrashing terrapin.

"_No!_ No, let me go! Not again…" The turtle's voice was hoarse with terror and despair. "Let me _go!_"

"Donatello," Bishop spoke sharply.

The turtle's brown eyes snapped to his face, but its gaze was unseeing, distant. "Jack… let me _go…_"

Doctor Merriner shot a confused glance at his superior officer, but Bishop was as perplexed as the scientist.

_Jack? Could he possibly be referring to the woman's brother?_

Moving forward, he deftly pinned the mutant's arm, allowing the doctor to slide a needle into his vein and draw off several vials of blood. Donatello squirmed, turning his face away. Bishop scowled as whimpers of terror sounded in the turtle's throat. Perhaps he had overestimated the creature. It was, after all, only a freak of nature.

Doctor Merriner was preparing a petri dish and a small disposable scalpel. "Should I administer the sedative now?" he asked.

Bishop shook his head. "No. I don't want the samples tainted. Just take what you need."

Merriner nodded, businesslike. He leaned forward and sank the small blade into the mutant's arm, cutting deeply enough to remove a small slice of skin and muscle tissue. An unholy sound came from the turtle. He went rigid, arcing against the table, jerking so hard against the restraints even Bishop couldn't hold him completely still. Merriner swore as blood welled from the wound, pouring out in a small, crimson stream.

"Call in reinforcements. _Now_," snapped Bishop. "I'll hold him."

Merriner nodded, pale, and rushed over to the door, where a panic button was mounted on the wall. Flipping up the plastic covering, he slapped it. Almost immediately guards poured into the room.

"Restrain the subject," snapped Bishop. Four men piled on to the mutant's flailing limbs, pinning him firmly to the table.

"Administer the sedative, Doctor," said Bishop calmly, standing up and straightening his jacket. Merriner nodded. With shaky hands, he inserted a hypo into the turtle's arm. In moments, the creature's desperate thrashing ceased and he went limp against the table.

"Clean him up and prepare him for preservation containment," snapped Bishop, obviously annoyed. He turned and left the room without so much as looking back.

"Yes, Sir," said Merriner automatically, his attention already diverted by the sample in his hands.

_It can wait,_ thought the scientist, turning away from the unconscious mutant on the table. _First, I'm going to get these cells under a microscope and see exactly what you're made of._

***

Drifting… a memory of warm, strong arms around her, brown eyes gazing into hers with such gentle devotion. Beverly Hamto curled up on the narrow mattress she'd been provided with, bringing her knees up protectively over her abdomen.

_A baby. Donny and I…_

Of course, there was a distinct chance the mad-man was lying. A very good chance indeed. _But why should he lie about something like that? What purpose could it possibly serve?_

Tears slid silently down Beverly's cheeks. _Donny… It can't end this way. It can't. I've only had a few years with you. We've been so happy! And a baby… A baby. Oh, Don. You would've made an amazing father. You _will_ make an amazing father. Bishop's not going to get away with this. We're going to get out of here. Somehow._

She lay there for a long time, cuddling around the precious treasure in her womb. Until this point, she'd contemplated death with relative detachment, her only deep and painful regret the thought of leaving Donatello behind, alone, to grieve for her.

She knew her own death would tear him apart. Donatello and his brothers had known so little of acceptance and love… He couldn't help but be dependent on their relationship.

_His brothers will take care of him_, she told herself, though the fierce ache burned in her chest. _He'll be ok. He'll get over it. In time._ Still… She didn't want to leave him. She didn't want to die. But now… Now desperation and fury burned in her chest.

_He is not taking this baby. He is _not_, _she thought. _He's not taking this chance away from Don and I. At least Donny doesn't know. If I… lose the baby, it won't destroy him the way it would've if he'd gotten a hold of Austin. They knew about her pregnancy. Losing it would have been devastating to the family. No one knows about this. If… if I can't protect the fetus, I can't ever let them know I was pregnant to begin with._

Hot tears slid down Beverly's cheeks.

_I'm so sorry, baby. I've only known about you for a few hours. I haven't even felt you move yet. And you deserve a chance, a chance to live. A chance to know what an amazing Dad you have. I only hope you get it. I just hope I can protect you long enough for your uncles to get us out of here._

For the first time, Beverly allowed herself to consider Bishop's words. _My men told me the rat had been hit._ Splinter… The idea of Splinter, injured, tore at Beverly.

_He's been like a father to me. To all of us. He's fought so hard for so long to keep them all safe and yet he allowed me and the others in to their family. He took a chance on us and now he's risked his life to try and save me. God… if you're real, if you're out there… don't take him. Please… Donny's going to need him… they all need him. Please, don't take him away from us._

Beverly sat up quite suddenly, sniffing. _Enough of this. Enough feeling sorry for myself. I've got to think… to plan. I can't keep sitting around and waiting for the boys to come and save me. It's time I did something for myself. They haven't been teaching me self defense techniques for nothing. They've been preparing Ann and me for something just like this, so we could protect ourselves if they weren't there. Well, Beverly, it's time to put those skills to use._

She drew deep, steadying breaths, mentally preparing herself. _Remember to breathe…_ Donatello's voice echoed in her memory, soft, familiar, soothing… She blinked back the tears, concentrating. _That's it. Draw deep breaths into your lungs, let them out slowly. Let your spirit be still, calm. Allow yourself to be aware of your surroundings… _

Slowly, Beverly's breathing slowed. She relaxed, but at the same time she felt more aware. She could hear the faint sounds of someone moving around behind the one-way glass, the rustle of clothing, the squeak of shoes on the floor. Beverly bit the inside of her lip, but forced herself to stay still and quiet.

_If they think I'm asleep, they'll be more comfortable… less on their guard. _

The minutes passed slowly. Beverly practiced her limited meditation skills, forcing her breathing to remain steady and even, feigning sleep. Sure enough, after she'd lain their long enough to nearly fall asleep in actuality, the sounds from the observation room diminished until she was sure no one was watching from the other side of the glass.

A new thought struck the woman. _The ones who bring the food are soldiers. Trained… I don't have much chance against them. But if I could get out of here... if I could get into the next room, maybe I can find a way out. _

Slowly, cautiously, she sat up and looked around the room. There wasn't much. A thin pillow and blanket graced the bed. In the corner, a small toilet with a curtain hanging on a track like those in the hospital, for some semblance of privacy, for which Beverly had been deeply grateful.

The toilet was smaller than those usually found in a home. The tank was one molded piece, sealed, so that there was no heavy lid for her to remove and use for a weapon. The seat… the seat was a solid affair, attached with plastic hinges to the rest of the unit. Beverly's eyes narrowed. If she could only…

She made her way across the room and inspected the commode. She lifted the seat experimentally, examining the hinges. Simple plastic. Beverly smiled grimly.

_If this doesn't work, I have a feeling my comforts will be greatly reduced from here on out,_ she thought. _I wonder what the penalty is for destroying government property? Oh well, I don't really intend to hang around long enough to find out._

Bracing herself, she pulled at the lid, deliberately twisting. The first hinge came loose with a reverberating _snap_ which had her flinching, expecting an influx of shouting guards at any moment. Nothing happened. Beverly worked frantically, twisting the seat this way and that, until the second plastic hinge reluctantly gave way.

_Now, if it's strong enough and I can just get enough force…_ She slowly approached the window, forcing herself to breathe slowly and quietly. Still no sound from the other side of the glass.

_Well, there's no turning back now._ Beverly swung the seat at the mirrored glass. It bounced harmlessly off, sending shock waves down her arms. The woman frowned. She took a better hold on her unconventional weapon and braced herself, this time swinging with more force and determination. The seat bounced back again and a growl of frustration escaped the woman. A third time she slammed the solid plastic against the glass. This time there was a _crack_. Beverly was elated for an instant… until she saw the thin line across the seat's lid. It had broken. Undeterred, she attacked the glass again. It took three more solid blows, and she was beginning to despair, when the glass suddenly shattered under her assault, raining down in countless tiny squares.

_Well, I'll be. Tempered glass_. Beverly smirked with triumph. Picking her way through the mess, she examined the room beyond. To her great relief, it was dark and empty save for the glow of a computer screen. Her vandalism had, so far, gone undetected. Snatching the blanket from the bed, she carefully laid it over the window frame before clamoring through the opening.

Once in the observation area, Beverly hesitated. Her first instinct was to stay here in this smaller, darker room. It felt safe, rather like the Lair. She knew she'd be discovered almost immediately if she stayed here. She would have to get out.

Turning to the computer, she pushed a button. Immediately a screen popped up, asking for a password, with a timer underneath, counting off 30 seconds.

Beverly bit her lip, frowning. She'd hoped to find something useful, like a map of the place, but it looked like the thing was rigged to shut down if she didn't enter an appropriate code in the allotted time.

_This is your area of expertise, Donny,_ she thought ruefully. _I should've paid more attention when you were trying to teach me about computers. _Abandoning the computer to its fate, she slipped toward the door. Amazingly, the hall beyond was still silent. No one had discovered her escape yet. Slowly, cautiously, she pushed the door open.

Beverly was so intent on scanning the hall for anyone who might stop her, she completely failed to notice the small card-slot next to the door, and the light that switched from green to red and began flashing a warning when the latch was opened without proper authorization. No one could've missed the klaxon that sounded ten seconds later, though. Beverly jumped and jerked the door instinctively open, every nerve in her body screaming one command: _Run_.

Run she did, tearing down the hall, dashing for the nearest door that looked like it went somewhere… anywhere but this insane prison. She darted through a door and came into a hall, lined with more doors. With a sob, Beverly threw herself at the nearest one.

Before she could touch it, it swung open. A man was coming out, muttering over the petri dish he was carrying. Beverly backpedaled, her eyes going wide with horror. The man looked up, and started toward her with a frown, but she froze, staring beyond him, through the still-open door. She'd caught a glimpse of familiar green. She charged forward, crashing into the scientist and knocking him back as she rushed past him into the room. Donatello was strapped to some sort of table. He didn't respond to her scream, to the hysterical voice desperately calling his name. Blood pooled on the floor under one arm and his skin, under Beverly's fingers, was cold, reminding her horribly of the day she'd first seen him, a tormented prisoner held captive by her insane brother.

"_Donny_!" She clutched at him, her fingers dragging across his smooth plastron plates as she was grabbed from behind by rough hands and pulled away.


	39. Chapter 39 Diamonds and Dynamite

**A/N: "Diamonds and dynamite come in small packages." ****  
-**_**Uhura's Song **_**by Janet Kagan  
**

**In other words… don't mess with the pastor's wife.  


* * *

**_Chapter 39 –Diamonds and Dynamite-_  
~~~

Raphael stalked across the room, scowling. The crutches had begun to bruise his side from constant use and the additional pain wasn't helping his mood.

_Raph, you have no right to judge her._ Ann's voice accused him again.

_Shell, Annie, I know yer ol' man hit ya, but dis is different. She let da guy kill her kid!_

_You don't _understand_, Raph. You've always been able to defend yourself. Not everyone is as strong as you. Not everyone is able to stand up to someone like you can. Isn't that why you fight?_

_I fight 'cause there are people who can't fight fer demselves! Like her kid! She shoulda protected 'er._

_How do you _know_, Raph? How can you possibly know what she was dealing with?_ Ann glared. _You're not just disrespecting Sierra, your disrespecting Leo as well. How can you deny him the chance to get to know her better? How can you deny him a chance at love?_

_He's my brother. I can't let 'im fall fer some…_

Her eyes flashed dangerously. _Some _what, _Raphael? Some _victim_? Some _weakling_ who can't defend herself against someone bigger and stronger? Someone like _me?

***

Raphael snorted, stalking out onto the porch to lean on the railing. Leonardo, Leatherhead and Casey were heading to the Battleshell. April was on the lawn, clinging to Casey, obviously upset but for once she wasn't shouting. Finally she let him go, stepping back.

"Take care of yourself, Jones," she growled.

Casey nodded. "You know it, Babe."

Raph watched, slightly disgusted, as the man kissed her. _Shell-fer brains. _He wouldn't admit, even to himself, how desperately he wanted to take the vigilante's place on this mission. His brothers, in the hands of that mad-man… And Leonardo, going in alone… None of it sat right with Hamato Raphael.

He was about to turn away when Sierra hurried across the lawn as well as she could on her injured ankle. Raph's eyes widened as she went boldly up to Leonardo, leaning close and kissing him full on the mouth.

_Aw, shell, Leo, ya idiot. Ya went an' fell fer dat girl._ Rage boiled up in Raphael, burning, threatening to choke him. At that moment, he could've gladly strangled Sierra.

Raph saw her give his brother a wavering smile. _All sweet an' innocent._ Raph scowled. _Bet she didn't tell 'im 'bout 'er dead kid._

"Go. Get your family," she said.

"I'll come back." Leo was looking at her like a love-sick puppy.

"I'll be waiting. Go," she said gently, giving his plastron a little push and stepping back.

Leonardo turned, spotting his brother on the porch. "Raph." Leo took the steps necessary to close the distance between them. He lowered his voice so that only his brother would hear. "Look after her for me. Please."

Raph met his brother's brown eyes. _How can you deny him a chance at love?_

"Ok, Leo," he growled.

"Thanks, Bro," said Leonardo, reaching out to briefly grip the younger turtle's arm.

"Jus' get 'em back, Fearless."

"We will."

Leonardo turned back toward the Battleshell. They pulled out of the driveway and headed off down the road.

***

Sierra watched them go without tears. He would come back to her. She turned to go inside, stumbling a little as her cane caught on an uneven spot in the lawn. A muscular green arm came around her waist, steadying her. She looked up, startled, into Raphael's burning amber eyes. She hadn't noticed him coming close to her.

He took his arm away and stepped back, regarding her with a mixture of wariness, disgust and suppressed fury.

"Thanks, I guess," she said tersely.

"He asked me ta look after ya," said Raph.

Sierra stared. "I don't need _anyone_ looking after me, Raphael," she said.

"He's m' brother," said Raph shrugging.

"And that gives you the right to baby-sit me?" snapped Sierra. "I don't _think_ so." She wheeled away, stalking up the stairs.

Raphael paced her easily. "Look. I don't like dis no more than you," he told her. "But Leo asked me ta keep ya safe. I'm gonna do m' best."

Sierra paused on the porch and turned to face him, her green eyes snapping with anger.

"I'll say this one time," she said slowly. "He may be _your _brother, but I am _noone's_ property. I will _not_ be patronized. Least of all by a…" She paused, drawing a slow, deep breath. When she spoke again her tone was even. "Least of all by someone who is so obviously _ungrateful _for the kindness shown him by strangers."

Raphael's eyes narrowed dangerously behind his red mask. "Ya can say it, ya know," he growled.

"Say _what?_"

"'Freak'. It wouldn't be da first time somebody called me that."

Sierra stared at him, startled. "I was going to say _jerk_," she said. "Raphael, you must realize I don't think of you that way."

Raph was unrelenting, his amber eyes hard. "I shoulda guessed dat," he bit out. "By da way ya were lockin' lips wit' my brother."

"You have a problem with that?" Sierra met his gaze, refusing to back down.

Raphael shook his head. "Not da way yer t'inkin," he told her coldly. "Not 'cause yer human."

"Then why?" she asked sharply. "You didn't seem to have a problem with me _before_ I kissed your brother. Why now?"

"'Cause before I didn't know…" Something in Raphael's gaze flickered. "Listen. Leo… Leo's big on family."

"I would never have guessed," she shot back.

Raph shook his head and tried again. "Ya don't understand. Honor. Family. It's everyt'in ta Fearless. He's spent his life… his _whole_ life, protectin' us, takin' care o' us. He deserves somebody wit' da same values."

"Are you _implying_ something, Raphael?"

"I ain't _implyin'_ not'in," he responded. "I'm _sayin' _it. Ya let dat guy beat ya up an' yer kid an' all. Ya should'a protected 'er…" He shook his head, his eyes hard. "Ya ain't good enough fer my bro."

Sierra's hand flashed out before even Raph's ninja reflexes could react, connecting with his face with a stinging _slap._ Without waiting for his response, she turned away and stormed off into the house.

***

Raph stood on the porch, his mouth hanging open. He had half a mind to go after her, but what would he do if he did? He'd never lifted a hand to a woman in his life.

_Except Karai,_ he thought. _But dat was different._

He shook his head, trying to clear it of the rage that threatened to choke him. How dare she? _How dare she?_ He'd done nothing but spoken the truth. He'd stood up for his brother, even if Leo wouldn't appreciate the gesture.

He started to make his way inside, when Marjory Spencer came through the door, her eyes blazing. Spotting Raphael, the woman marched up to him.

"What," she demanded, "Have you done? _What_, exactly, did you say to Sierra?"

Raphael stared down at the petite woman who was now just inches from his plastron.

"What did you say to Sierra?" she demanded again, her furious glare burning into him.

"I told her da _truth_," snapped Raph, his already-worn temper snapping. "She ain't good enough fer my bro."

"You have no _idea_ who she is, do you?" asked the woman. "You heard part of her story, and you're _assuming_ you know it all. You… Raphael, you are a _hypocrite._" She turned, moving away a few paces.

"What are you talkin' about?" he growled. Only his respect for Gene and his father resting just inside kept him from yelling at her.

"You, of all people should know better than to judge someone based on _appearances. _You don't know what it was like for her," she snapped without turning around. "You don't know _Sierra."_

"I know enough."

"Do you?" Marjory Spencer turned around, her eyes blazing.

Raph was about to answer when Gene Spencer stepped out onto the porch.

"What's going on out here? Marj, what are you doing?"

"I'm trying to find out why Sierra's upstairs packing her things," snapped Marjory. "She was so _happy._ She's in _love_, and Leonardo obviously feels the same way_._ She told me she promised to _wait _for him, but now she's ready to pack up and go back to the city. What is wrong with you, Raphael? Why would you do this?"

"Because he's my _brother_," answered Raph, his amber eyes blazing with determination.

"Wait. Marj, go talk to Sierra. Please." Gene took his wife by the shoulders. She looked up into his eyes for a moment before giving one terse nod.

"All right." She turned on her heel and went inside without so much as another glance at Raphael.

When Gene Spencer turned to the mutant, his eyes were hard and determined. Raph waited. He was used to staring down Leonardo.

Finally the man spoke. "So, you think you've got Sierra figured out, huh?"

"Yep." The turtle stood with his arms crossed, in his most stubborn pose. "She's one o' dem weak clinin' vine types who can't stand up fer themselves. A guy like Leo, he's a sucker for a maiden in distress. It ain't right, Gene. I'm sorry I hurt her feelin's, but I can't stand by an' let Leo get hurt."

"Sierra Jonstone is the least _clinging_ person I've known in my life," said Gene quietly. "When she came to my church, I saw an incredibly independent and strong young woman, struggling to raise her daughter. She was _trapped, _Raphael. Do you know what that's like? To be trapped in a situation with no way out?"

Raph waited, watching the man with narrowed eyes.

"Do you want to know, Raphael? Or would you rather judge her without hearing her whole story? It's ok for your _brother_ to feel trapped by his honor, but you can't understand how anyone else could be, is that it?"

"It ain't da same, Gene." Raphael scowled.

"It _is_, Raphael. Sierra was trapped just as surely as your brother was."

"Leo's gonna be ok."

"So is Sierra." Gene leaned closer, glaring. "She's _changed_, Raphael. Just like Leonardo has. You trust your brother not to… hurt himself now, right? Well, if you knew Sierra as well as we do, you'd know _she_'s come a long way, too."

"Ya can tell me if ya want," said Raph gruffly. "But it ain't gonna change anyt'in'."

Gene nodded. "If it doesn't, Raphael, you are not as intelligent as I think you are."

He took a deep breath, ignoring Raph's flashing glare. "Sierra was a dancer. She came to the city when she was nineteen to audition for _Cats_ on Broadway. And she was _good._ Really good. I've seen footage. She was… amazing. She danced with the show for three years. Now, I didn't know her then, mind you, but I can see the spark she must have had…" He met Raph's eyes steadily. "All that was before she met Derrick."

Raphael snorted. He leaned against the porch's support post, his arms crossed over his plastron. "Dat da guy who killed her kid?"

Gene nodded. He paced away across the worn floorboards. "Sierra will be the first to tell you that she made a mistake. She was high on her success, he was charming... They married quickly, during the last year Sierra danced on Broadway."

The man shook his head. "Two weeks into the opening of a new show, there was an accident… at least, she says it was an accident. She's been honest about the abuse, so I'm inclined to believe her. She fell down some stairs and broke her leg. The doctors did their best, but without extensive physical therapy, she was told she'd never dance again. Derrick… Derrick prevented her from going to her appointments. Apparently he thought they were a waste of time. They'd only been married about a year. I think Sierra would've left him, but about then she discovered she was pregnant with Hayley."

Raph nodded reluctantly, piecing it together. "So, she was pregnant before she figured out what a jerk dis guy was?"

Gene nodded. "When I met Sierra, Hayley was about a year old. I never would have thought… Sierra didn't tell us _anything_ for the first year I knew her. She was guarded, suspicious of everyone, but she had a spark… there was something in her, even then, that was still fighting. It wasn't until he threatened Hayley that she came to Marj and I for help."

He turned to face Raph again, his expression hard with the memory.

"The night… the night Hayley died… she came to the church. She told us what had been going on, and that she wanted to leave him. We encouraged her to leave that night, not to go back to the apartment, but she said she had to; she had to get some money she'd set aside, to take care of them both. She'd been planning to leave for a long time…"

Gene closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "What I wouldn't give to go back… to have somehow _made _her stay with us."

"Gene," Raph growled. "It weren't yer fault."

The man ignored him. "When she got home, Derrick had been drinking. She tried to leave, but he wouldn't let her. They argued… and when she hit him, he went after Hayley. Sierra… attacked him. She could have run away_._"

Gene's looked up, his eyes blazing. "She could have left her baby and run and never looked back, but that's not in her nature. Her family… her daughter… meant _everything_. She nearly died that night as well. The doctors figure that Hayley only made it as far as the hospital because when Derrick went after her, Sierra blocked him with her own body. She took the majority of the beating to protect her daughter. _That's_ the kind of person Sierra is, Raphael."

Gene watched the turtle for a long moment. Raph's gaze flickered toward the farmhouse door.

"I… didn't know," growled the turtle softly. "I jus' t'ought…"

"Well, now you _know,_" snapped Gene. He turned away. "I've got to go and talk to Sierra. She's in love with your brother and I believe he's in love with her. This world is dark and cold sometimes. The chances of two people falling in love, with everything so twisted up and out of whack, are so slim, and when you add in the factors of Sierra's past and Leonardo's life..." Gene shook his head. "Sierra and Leonardo are _both_ amazing people, who have a chance to be _happy._"

The man walked back into the farmhouse before Raph could think of anything else to say.


	40. Chapter 40 Redemption

_Chapter 40 –Redemption-  
~~~_

The first thing Michelangelo was aware of was the fact that he was _wet._ And cold. He shivered, feeling hands on his arms. From far away, a voice called.

"_Mikey! Mikey, can you hear me? Come on, Bro, wake up. Come on. We've got to get the others and get out of here…_"

_Leo?_ Mike coughed, a heavy, slow sound that expelled awful-tasting fluid from his lungs. It burst out of him and breathing became a little easier. He felt hands on his shell, pushing him up, lifting him. He forced his eyes open. "L… Leo?" He blinked a couple of times. "Where… where the shell are we?"

"Bishop's base," said Leonardo tersely. "And we still have to find Donny and Bev. How're you doing, Bro?"

"_Bishop…_" Michelangelo sat up quite suddenly and swayed as a wave of dizziness swept over him.

"Easy, Mike. You've been in one of those containment tubes," explained Leonardo, supporting his brother as he struggled to his feet. "You're probably going to feel a little shaky and disoriented for a while."

"I concur, Leonardo," rumbled Leatherhead's gravelly voice.

"LH!" Mikey turned, his blue eyes wide with confusion. "You came back for us. But Splinter…"

"Your father is safe," Leatherhead assured him. "Now come. We must retrieve Donatello and Beverly."

"Yeah." Mike straightened, taking his weight off his brother's arm. "We gotta get Bev. I told Donny I'd look after her," he said. Leonardo's eye ridges rose at the determination in his brother's voice. Mike met his eyes. "I _promised_, Leo," he said.

The leader nodded. "It's good to have you back, Mike," he said with a smile.

"It's good ta be back, Bro," returned Mikey with a cheeky grin.

The trio made their way out of the containment area. Michelangelo tried not to notice the signs of the battle that had gone on in the room. Laser blasts blackened the walls in several places and near the door, a human guard lay on his back, his sightless eyes staring up into eternity. Since Mike saw no obvious blood, he assumed Leatherhead's tail had delivered the fatal blow. The corridor was oddly quiet.

"They haven't figured out we're here yet," said Leonardo with a grim smile. "Let's try to keep it that way as long as possible." Leatherhead nodded with a low growl of assent. They moved down the hall, with LH in the lead and Leonardo bringing up the rear. They seemed determined to keep Michelangelo between them. That was all right with him. He still felt shaky and ill from his dunk in the fluid. Besides, his nunchucks were gone. He was far from defenseless, but he missed their familiar weight in his hands as they made their way down the hall.

"This way," hissed Leatherhead. "Her scent is strong." He motioned toward a door.

Leonardo moved forward. Sliding a plastic card out of his belt, he slipped it into the slot next to the door. The light turned from red to green and the door opened with a _click_.

"Dude… where'd ya get the key?" asked Michelangelo with a soft whistle.

"Took it off a guard." Leo slipped the card back into his belt. He moved into the room, motioning for the others to wait. There was a muffled squawk and a thump. Leatherhead surged forward, but Leo was already tying an unconscious man's arms firmly behind his back with a bit of leather thong from his belt.

"Get Beverly," he hissed. Michelangelo moved into the room. His sister-in law was strapped to a table, her blue eyes huge in her pale face. She was shaking, but as Mikey moved to her side, a smile played across her features.

"Mikey! You're ok. Leo! Leatherhead! Thank God you came, he was going to..." Fear flickered in her eyes. "Wait, where's Donny?" Her gaze shifted to Leonardo.

"We're going to get him," said Leo gently.

He drew a small knife from his belt, deftly cutting through the leather straps that held her limbs to the table. As soon as he'd loosed her, Beverly shot up, wrapping Michelangelo up in a wild hug. She sat on her knees on the table, her arms wound tightly around his neck.

"When Bishop told me he had you guys..."

Mike's arms went around his sister-in-law's waist, holding her close.

"It's gonna be ok, Bev," he whispered to her. "I promise."

"He… he was bleeding…" Beverly's breathing hitched. "I saw him. They had him strapped to a table and he was bleeding and he wouldn't wake up… You've got to get him. Leo, you've got to get him out of here," she turned to face Leonardo, finally releasing Mike. Michelangelo supported her as she climbed down from the table.

"That's what we came to do, Bev," said the blue-banded turtle. "Come on."

He was moving cautiously toward the door when a klaxon sounded, making them all jump.

Leonardo muttered a curse under his breath. "I knew it was too good to last," he said. "Ok, plan B. Leatherhead, get them _out_ of here."

"No, Leonardo," growled the crocodilian. "I am _not_ leaving you alone in this place. Not again. We go together."

"There's no _time_," snapped Leo. "I've got to get Don."

"I've got Bev, Leo," said Michelangelo suddenly. "You guys go get Donny."

Leonardo's dark eyes considered his brother.

"I promised Donny I'd look after her," said Mike.

Leonardo nodded. "Come on," he said. They raced down the hall, ducking around several corners before they came to a screen that Michelangelo recognized as the vent they'd used to access the base the first time. "Through there, Mike. Take the left tunnel. It will lead you out. Casey's waiting with the Battleshell. Get Bev out of here." Leonardo met his brother's eyes. "We'll get Don. Now, go."

Mikey nodded, gripping his brother's shoulder for an instant. "If you're not out in ten minutes…"

"If we don't come out in ten, Mikey, you guys get back to the farmhouse, got it? Tell Splinter… Tell him…" Leonardo shook his head.

"You tell him _yourself,_ Leo," said Mike firmly.

"Go, Michelangelo. Get her out of here," said Leo.

Mike grabbed Beverly's arm. "No!" she yelled, trying to pull away. "Wait! I'm not going without Donny!"

"You've _got_ to, Bev," said Leo. "Please. We can't protect you _and_ look for him." Still the woman struggled. Leonardo went over and grasped her shoulders. "Beverly. _Imouto._ Please. Trust me. I'll bring him home to you."

She looked into his eyes for a long moment. Slowly her expression changed from grief and fury to surprise… then to determination.

"All right, Leo." She turned to Michelangelo. "Let's go, Mikey."

The two disappeared down the tunnel.

***

"This way, Leonardo," said Leatherhead evenly.

"You know where Don is, LH?" asked Leonardo. His katanas were in his hands, ready to defend them against the soldiers they could now hear coming closer.

The crocodilian started off down the corridor. "I smell _Bishop,_" he growled. "And if I know him, he'll be with Donatello."

Leonardo had to run to keep up with the larger mutant. "LH, are you sure?"

Leatherhead didn't bother to answer. His prey was close now, he could _smell _it. The familiar rage rose in him and this time he didn't fight it. Indeed, he embraced it, fanning the flame until the roar issued forth, shaking the very walls. The guards who'd come streaming around the corner ahead of them fell back in a panic at the sound, nearly falling over themselves in their efforts to escape the monster.

In another instant he would have fallen upon the men, but a sound from the left drew his attention and he whirled. Vaguely, Leatherhead was aware of the _clang_ of Leonardo's katanas as he made short work of the guards, slicing through their laser-weapons and the barrels of their guns.

A flurry of thumps and crashes followed, punctuated by shouts and screams, but there was no smell of blood to further excite the crocodilian's senses. In a moment all was quiet save for the alarm still blaring and the occasional moan of the downed guards. Leatherhead moved toward the door with the speed born of instinct. He slammed through the doors, ignoring the sparks thrown from the ruined entryway. Bishop crouched in a defensive stance. A few feet in front of him was a table… not just _any_ table, but the very table Bishop had used to restrain _him_.

Leatherhead's memory filled with pain… horrible, unending pain… and rage. He launched toward the man, who dodged aside, deftly avoiding the attack. Leatherhead spun with a roar, lunging, swinging his tail in an effort to bring the man down, to stop him from escaping, his only thought death. He ached with the desire to feel bones crunch and the soft _thud_ of flesh being crushed... Bishop dodged neatly, leaving his tail to strike only empty air.

"_Bishop!_" The sound that tore from Leatherhead's throat was a bellow of rage, which blended with another voice…

"_Donny!" _Leonardo's cry echoed through the room, an eerie sound. Leatherhead was vaguely aware of Leo's katanas flashing, the _clang_ of metal striking metal. Through a haze, he saw Leonardo touch his brother's face, speaking his name, lifting him from the table and dragging him out of harm's way.

Bishop allowed his attention to waver for an instant.

"You're wasting your time, mutant," he taunted. "He's _dead_, and one of my scientists is preparing to remove the _spawn_ at this very moment. You're _too late._"

The voice… that voice which had echoed in his nightmares… Leatherhead fell back a step clutching his head, a whimper escaping him. The pain… so much pain… Fury rose in him again.

Donatello, dead? No… His friend… his _only_ friend who understood him and stood by him in spite of his temper, in spite of his bouts of uncontrollable rage…

"_No!_" screamed Leatherhead. He lunged for the man again. Bishop turned to face the crocodilian's attack, a self-confident smirk crossing his features as he prepared to retaliate…

In a flash of blue, green and silver, Bishop disappeared from Leatherhead's line of sight. The man went down with a cry, his limbs flailing in a useless attempt to save himself. Leatherhead, unable to control his momentum, rushed past, skidding on the tile spinning once more to face his mortal foe.

Leonardo was standing over Bishop, his katanas crossed, the blades pressing against the man's neck, the tips driven deep into the floor. Bishop couldn't move, or risk having his throat cut by the enraged turtle who stood over him, revenge written in every line of his furious stance.

Leatherhead growled, moving forward to finish what Leonardo had started, but a soft groan caught his super-sensitive hearing, and he turned, warring with himself for an instant. Another groan… the haze receded. He blinked as his vision returned slowly to normal.

"Donatello?" Leatherhead moved across the floor, half-dazed and knelt beside his friend. Brown eyes flickered and slowly opened.

"L… Leather…head?" Donatello's gaze landed on the crocodilian's face. "You… came back?"

"Of course, my friend."

"J… Jack…" Donatello shuddered, confusion and fear clouding his eyes.

"No, Donatello." The larger mutant shook his head. "It was Bishop. Your brother has… dealt with him. Now, my friend, we must leave this place."

Leatherhead lifted Donatello, helping him sit up. The turtle's arm felt cold against him.

"Leonardo. Your brother is in need of medical assistance," growled Leatherhead. "We must leave _now._"

Leonardo was standing over Bishop, glaring down at him. His hands were gripping the katana's hilts so firmly his knuckles had gone pale.

"Leonardo!" Leatherhead insisted. "Finish him. We must _go."_

Leonardo glanced at his brother who was standing, swaying. He glanced down at the man again.

"No!" Bishop's voice was hoarse with fury and fear showed clearly now in his eyes. "Get off me, _freak!_"

Leonardo's eyes narrowed behind his mask. "Give me one good reason, Bishop. One reason I should spare _you_ of all people."

Donatello took a swaying step toward his brother, away from LH's supporting arm. There were shouts from the corridor and a rumbling which shook the floor.

"Leonardo! There is no _time_," shouted Leatherhead. "The detonators we set on the way in will go off at any moment!"

Leo's gaze was locked onto Bishop's. "You threatened my family, Bishop. You nearly killed my father and my brother. You don't _deserve_ to live."

"Let me go, you oversized reptile," screamed Bishop.

Donatello moved across the room, seemingly determined to defend his brother, even in his weakened state. Leatherhead moved to stop him but Don shrugged off his hand, going to stand next to Leo.

Leonardo drew his blades back with a sudden jerk. Leatherhead saw the rage burning in the turtle's dark eyes as he pulled back, his point starting forward to deliver the fatal cut…

Suddenly Leonardo stopped. A look Leatherhead couldn't place crossed his face. He stepped back, his eyes never leaving Bishop's face.

"No." His voice was quiet, steady, unafraid. "No, Bishop. I'm not going to do it. Not like this. Not today."

Bishop's eyes widened as he scrambled back, staring at the blue-banded turtle as if he'd gone completely out of his mind.

"You had your chance, Leonardo," snarled the man, his expression twisted into that of a wild animal. "You should've killed me. You've always been _weak, _you and your pathetic _brothers_. This one _begged_ for his pitiful life like a cringing _animal._"

"You're _wrong,_ Bishop," said Donatello. "Leo's _never_ been stronger." His fist shot out so suddenly even Leatherhead blinked as the man crumpled to the floor. "And neither have _I_."

Leonardo whirled, wrapping one arm around his brother, supporting him as Don's knees began to buckle.

"Leatherhead, help him."

The tall crocodilian bent to scoop Donatello up in a bridal carry. Don's squirming protest was weak.

"You must let me help you, Donatello," said LH quietly. "Or you will slow us down."

"Let's go," said Leo.

Donatello nodded in resignation.

The pair raced for the door. Leonardo dashed past Leatherhead, his katanas at the ready. "Follow me. We've got to get Don out of here!" Leonardo moved like one possessed, taking down any guards who dared approach as if they were no more than paper dolls tossed by a heavy wind. The ventilation shaft was blocked by several dozen men. Leatherhead wheeled, heading back the way he'd come, with Leonardo hot on his heels. A low rumbling shook the building again, stronger this time.

"Leonardo! We must get out, _now_," snapped Leatherhead. "When the third round of explosives go off, the building will fall."

His warning was lost as the walls around them gave one last shivering groan and collapsed with a deafening roar.


	41. Chapter 41 Conversation

_Chapter 41 –Conversation-  
~~~_

Pain…

Splinter pushed it away, separated it from his mind. He was aware of his lungs, drawing in deep, slow breaths… The peace of the old building around him, the proximity of his family. Scents lay on the air. Jasmine… that would be April. Cinnamon and vanilla blended pleasantly to inform him Ann was nearby. Lavender… Austin. And a new scent… unfamiliar and yet not unpleasant… A sweet, rather fruity scent he couldn't quite place. It mixed with the salty tang of sweat and tears… the unmistakable scent of anger.

The rat's eyes flickered and slowly opened as he allowed himself to return fully to the physical world. The pain he still kept apart, dark and throbbing but bearable, thanks to the human man who'd insisted he take some of the pills Donatello had packed for their injured.

_Our injured. And our missing. _A sigh escaped him, he couldn't help it. _Leonardo. Michelangelo. Donatello… Beverly. Leatherhead._ He shivered as the pain threatened to escape, to overwhelm him, and fought it back with an effort.

A small noise had his eyes snapping open. Splinter moved his head just far enough to see who approached. He recognized the scent of cinnamon and vanilla before the woman spoke.

"Splinter? You're awake?" asked Ann.

"Yes, Daughter," answered the rat with a faint smile.

Rather timidly, she adjusted the blanket, tucking it around him. "Can we get you anything?"

"No, daughter," he said. "Only… I would like to speak with Pastor Spencer. Perhaps he can tell me why my son defied me." He could not keep the bitterness out of his voice. Beside him, Ann stirred.

"Splinter, Leonardo loves his brothers."

"As do I," whispered Splinter.

"I'll go and see where Gene is," said Ann quietly. "I think he's… talking to Raph."

"Talking?"

She sighed. "They were… arguing." She brushed her fingers over his hand once more before getting up and leaving the room.

_I wondered how long Raphael would maintain his current state of peace,_ thought Splinter, suppressing a sigh. _I hope he has not offended our guests over some trivial matter. Though if Gene has indeed influenced Leonardo…_

"Splinter? Ann said you wanted to talk to me." Gene Spencer came into the room. Splinter detected a tension in the man, more so than could be accounted for by nerves. The way he moved, the stiffness in his shoulders and the firmness of his footfalls indicated anger.

"Gene-san," Splinter opened his eyes once more, fixing the man with a careful look. "I hope my son has not offended you?"

Gene sighed. "No, Sir." The man didn't elaborate. After a pause, Splinter spoke again.

"May I ask what cause Raphael has for disagreeing with you?" he asked softly, careful to keep any hint of accusation out of his tone.

"I believe the disagreement is between Raphael and Sierra," said Gene, equally carefully. "Perhaps you should ask Raphael about it, Sir."

"As you wish, Gene-san," said Splinter. "However, I wished to ask you about another of my sons."

"Leonardo."

"Yes. His behavior is… most unusual." Splinter shifted on the couch, ignoring the twinge in his shoulder. "I had hoped he might have… confided in you."

"You mean, you want to know if it's my fault he chose to go against your wishes," said Gene quietly. "The answer is no, Sir, as far as I know, I had no direct influence on his behavior."

"But you _have _had an influence on my son," said Splinter keeping his tone even. _I have not yet decided whether it is a positive one._

Gene smiled. "I hope so, Sir," he said. "As a Christian, I am charged with sharing the message of God's love and forgiveness with all those I come into contact with."

Splinter's whiskers twitched. "And you shared this… message, with my son?" he asked.

"I gave him a Bible, yes, Sir," answered Gene. "I know he was reading it. He asked me some questions."

"And do you believe that this book may have had some impact on his decision?" asked Splinter. His voice came out more sharply than he'd intended.

"You'll have to ask him that." Gene hesitated. "I believe Leonardo did what he felt in his heart to be right, Sir."

"I see." Splinter nodded. "I have raised my sons to always do what is right."

"You've raised fine sons," said Gene. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"No, thank you, Gene-san," said Splinter, letting his eyes close once more. "I thank you for looking after my son."

"Rest now, Mr. Hamato," said Gene softly.

The rat didn't hear him. He'd already drifted back into unconsciousness.

***

Sierra tucked another shirt into her bag with her uninjured arm, pausing to wipe away angry tears.

_I'm going home. I don't care if I have to take Gene and Marj's van. Or walk into town and call a cab. I'm not staying here another instant. It was stupid of me to think Leonardo and I could… His family will never accept me. And if Raphael reacted this way, who knows how Leo will feel. This Bushido code they live by… it may be honorable, but there's no room in it for mistakes, or allowances for people to change._

A sleepy, protesting _yip _from the wire cage behind her made her turn, a smile tugging at her face.

"Well, hello there," she whispered, seeing a tiny pink nose poke out of the lined denim pouch that hung in one corner. A second nose poked out, followed by grey-striped fur and large black eyes. "Silly girls, you should be resting," scolded Sierra, smiling. She noticed that Gene had filled their food-cup.

"You two are getting spoiled," said Sierra softly. Candy clamored out of the pouch, dashing over to perch on the edge of the food dish. She snatched a bit of the thawed papaya, gobbling it down. Sierra smiled.

"When we get home again," she promised. "I'll let you out for a good long run." She hadn't felt safe setting the small animals loose in the old farmhouse, with its many nooks and crevices for them to explore and get lost in.

"If we get home again." She hugged her chest, shivering. "It looks like we'll have to start over again, somewhere else." She sighed. "Maybe it's time I went back to Kansas." Tears stung her eyes, unbidden. "Even if Mom and Dad never talk to me again." Her parents hadn't spoken to her since Hayley's death. They hadn't come when she was in the hospital, or for the trial.

"Why wouldn't they talk ta ya?" The gruff voice had her spinning around. Raphael leaned on his crutch in the doorway. His expression was guarded.

"What the _hell_?" she snapped.

"Sorry. I didn't mean ta startle ya," he said. Sierra watched the muscular turtle straighten, but he didn't come into the room. "Why wouldn't yer folks talk ta ya?" he asked again.

Sierra glared at him. "Why is that any of _your_ business?" she asked.

"Ok, fair enough. It ain't," he responded. "Listen, I… I wanted ta talk ta ya. Can I… come in?"

"I don't want to talk to _you,_" she snapped, turning away.

"All right. Den ya can listen," he growled. "But I'm gonna come in, an' I'm gonna sit here fer a minute, ok? 'Cause dis damn crutch is drivin' me outta my shell." He made his way slowly across the room, sinking into a chair near the bed. He glanced at the bag and clothes laid out on the bed.

"So Marjory was right. Ya are runnin' away."

"I'm not _running, _Raphael," said Sierra.

Agitated, she opened the door to the cage and scooped up a sleepy Ruth into her hand. The little animal made a little _yip_ of protest, but snuggled comfortably against Sierra's neck, curling into a warm ball in her palm. Her silky fur was warm and reassuring. Sierra turned to face Raphael, leaning her hip against the dresser.

"Ya are." Raph's amber gaze burned into hers. "Yer runnin' off 'cause o' what I said before."

Sierra shook her head, avoiding his eyes. Suddenly Raph stood up, crossing the room toward her. Sierra moved around the dresser and backed up against the wall, her eyes going wide with alarm.

Raphael watched her, his expression unreadable. He took a step back, holding up his free hand. "I ain't gonna hurt ya, Sierra."

"Why'd you do that?" she snapped, glaring, angry with herself for her reaction.

"I wanted ta see what ya'd do," he said quietly. "I didn't mean ta scare ya."

"I wasn't _scared,_" she snapped. "You just… I didn't know what you were going to do."

"None of us would ever hurt ya," said Raph. "What I said before…"

"I heard you the first time. You don't have to repeat yourself," said Sierra, glaring.

"Will ya jus' _listen _a minute?" growled Raphael, taking a step toward her. Sierra backed up against the wall as he approached. Raph shook his head with obvious frustration. "I jus' wanna _talk_ ta ya."

"So talk," her voice rose. "Go ahead, Raphael. Tell me _exactly_ what you think of me. Do you think you're the first person to do that? Do you think you're the only one who hates me because I let my baby girl die? My own _parents_ won't talk to me. I haven't seen them, or any of my family, in _three years._" Her green eyes were blazing.

"Sierra, I…"

"You _what?_ You think you're _better_ than I am because you can fight? Because you're _stronger_?" The woman straightened, stalking a step toward him, her movements awkward without her cane.

"No, Sierra…"

"You think you _know everything_, don't you? You think you've got my life figured out? Well you _don't,_ Raphael. You don't know _anything. _You don't know what it's like to lose a child, to have your _baby_ snatched away, to not be able to stop it, not be able to fight back hard enough…" Tears of rage were streaming down her cheeks now. "To not be able to _protect_ her…"

"I _do _know," shouted Raph. "How da ya t'ink I feel right _now?_ My brothers are in da city, with some _nut_ dat wants ta cut 'em up, an' I'm stuck _here_!"

"Well, why don't you go and _protect_ them, Raphael?" she yelled right back, reckless in her fury. "Since you're so _big_ and _strong_."

Amber eyes burned into hers. Rage, uncontrolled and uncontrollable, his hand closing into a fist at his side. Sierra took an involuntary step back, but her heel caught on the small throw-rug in the middle of the room. She fell with a cry, her eyes going wide with fear as she saw Raphael move toward her in a blur.

_Derrick's fists crashed into her, driving into her, pushing the breath out of her lungs, the very life from her body. Hayley's cries were muffled under her, her movements weakening… "No!"_

Sierra struck out, her fist catching something hard and unyielding. Pain shot through her injured arm. There was a smaller, sharper pain at her neck, and hot liquid flowed across her collarbone. Eyes burned into hers… but not dark like Derrick's… the eyes were golden and burned with anger, but with grief and fear as well.

"Sierra! Are ya ok?"

Slowly, she became aware of an arm around her waist, lowering her slowly to the floor. Her hand was still cupped protectively around a trembling silky ball. Instinctively, she pulled the glider away from her neck, vaguely aware she was bleeding.

"I t'ink it bit ya." A gruff voice. A large hand covered hers, pulling her fingers back, releasing the shivering animal. Sierra gasped as his huge, leathery hand enclosed Ruth.

"No! Don't…" A sob caught in her throat, but he stood, made his way to the cage and opened the door, releasing the precious bundle back into the enclosure. Ruth dashed over to the shelf beside the pouch and crabbed loudly before diving back into the safety of her hiding place.

_Not all men are like Derrick, Sierra_. Gene Spencer's voice echoed in her memory.

"Sierra? What's going on in here?" Marjory's voice rang out, high with alarm. "Raphael! What have you done?"

"I didn't hurt 'er," he snapped. "Dat little squirrel t'ing, it bit 'er."

"It's ok, Marj," said Sierra. "I'm all right." She pressed her hand to her throat and felt a sting, but not a deep pain. She avoided looking at Raphael until he limped close to her, leaning down and holding out his hand.

"Let me help ya up," he growled.

Sierra's gaze snapped up. She glanced at Marjory who was scowling, her hands on her hips, looking ready to pounce on Raphael herself if he so much as looked the wrong way, then up at Raphael who was regarding her with those deep amber eyes.

"I can manage."

"I know. But I promised Leo."

Sierra stared at him for a long moment before taking his hand._ Not all men are like Derrick. Leonardo is different. Even Raphael...  
_

"Ok."

Raphael pulled her to her feet.

Marjory bustled forward. "Are you sure you're all right, Sierra?" she asked, but her eyes were on Raphael.

"I'm sure, Marjory," said Sierra with a faint smile. "I'm going to be all right."


	42. Chapter 42 Salvation

_Chapter 42 –Salvation-  
~~~_

Beverly Hamato stumbled, falling against her brother in law as the tunnel shook around them. They could hear a rumbling and the choking scent of dust and acrid smell of burning plastic wafted through the tunnel.

Michelangelo grabbed her wrist as she turned instinctively, as if she would run back the way they'd come.

"Donny!" she shouted. "Mike, we've got to go back, we've got to get them out of there!"

"Bev, we can't go back that way," said Michelangelo firmly. "Come on, we've got to get out of here. Leo and Leatherhead are getting Donny out. We've got to get to the Battleshell."

"I've got to get Donny!" she cried again, pulling against his hold. Mike was unrelenting, dragging the hysterical woman forward.

"Bev, come _on._ You can't go back in there."

"No! I'm not leaving him." She twisted, squirming. Mike stopped, planting his feet firmly and wrapped his arm around her, pinning her to his plastron. Stooping, he grabbed her knees, lifting her right off the floor.

"I'm sorry, Bev," he said, dashing forward. Beverly's fists flailed against his plastron.

"Let me _go!_" she shouted. Mike ignored her, running through the tunnels. Another ominous rumble, and the distinct thudding vibration of walls collapsing echoed around them. Michelangelo picked up his pace.

"No! No… Donny," moaned Beverly. Mike tightened his arms around her.

"Leo'll get him out," he said with more confidence than he felt.

"You don't understand…" Beverly moaned. "I have to get to him, Mike, I have to… I have to tell him."

Michelangelo kept running. There was light ahead, he could see it. His lungs were beginning to burn with the dust and heavy smoke that was becoming thicker in the tunnel.

"It's gonna be ok, Bev," he panted, trying to keep her calm. He could feel a deep trembling in his limbs now. If she fought him, he wasn't sure he could hold on.

_I'm not gonna let Don down. I promised him, Bev. He couldn't live without you. He wouldn't want to.  
_

"Mikey…" Sobs were shaking her now. "I have to get Donny…"

"Bev, we've got to get back to the Battleshell. If Leo an' Don an' LH aren't there, _I'll_ go back in an' get 'em out," he promised. The woman's blue eyes came up to meet his, intense.

"You've _got_ to, Mike," she said. "You've got to get him back. Please. Mikey, I… I'm going to have a baby, too. Don's going to be a dad."

Michelangelo was so shocked he almost stopped mid-stride. "What?"

"Bishop… The tests they ran… They confirmed it. That scientist was going to..." She shuddered. "You guys got there just in time."

"Holy _shell._" Michelangelo's arms tightened around his sister in law, a new determination loaning him strength. "Don't worry, Bev," he said. "I'm gonna get you out of here." 

_And then, if Bishop's alive, I'm gonna take him down myself._ The thought of anyone so much as _touching_ his sister-in-law, of daring to harm the precious life growing inside her, brought up an uncharacteristic rage in Michelangelo. He blinked, stepping out into the light.

"Mikey!" Casey's voice rang out, making Mike take a defensive stance with a growl. The big man rushed up to them. "Mikey, where's Leo?"

"If they're not with you, they're still inside," said Mike. He set Bev down carefully. "Get her outta here, Casey. I gotta go after my bro's."

"Wait, Mike." Casey grabbed the turtle's arm. "Let's get Bev into da truck, den you an' me'll go together."

"Ok," said Mike reluctantly. He turned to look at the building they'd just escaped and his heart leapt into his throat. The brick walls were intact along one side, but the rest… the rubble was piled over a story high. Beams, mortar and brick lay scattered like a child's block tower, kicked down in a moment of frustration.

"Holy _shell,_" breathed Mikey again.

"No…" He heard Beverly's pained whisper. "No… Donatello… Donny…"

"We're gonna get 'em out," said Casey. Mike turned to look at the man and saw determination mixing with grief and horror in his gaze. "Come on, Bev. Don'd never fergive us if anyt'in happened ta you. Mikey an' me, we'll get 'em."

"No."

"What?"

"I'm not staying here. Not when my _husband_ is in there," she said, facing him.

Casey shook his head. "Bev, ya gotta. Ya can't go in there. What if Don's hurt?"

"Then he needs me," she answered.

"Bev…" Michelangelo held out his hand, but the look she gave him stopped his protest. He shook his head. "We ain't gonna win this one, Case-man," he said. "Come on. Let's go."

***

Leonardo heard a low, rumbling groan. Lifting his head, he peered through the haze of dust and spotted a grayish-green arm shifting across a pile of bricks. A shaft of sunlight shone down, illuminating the scene eerily.

"Le…Leatherhead?" Leo rasped. Dust choked him and his lungs spasmed in protest. A coughing fit shook him, confirming that having several tons of bricks, concrete and steel come down upon himself had not been a great idea. "Donny?" he managed between gasping coughs.

"Leonardo. Do not move," growled Leatherhead. "How badly are you injured?"

"I… I don't know. Donny…"

"I have him." Leatherhead shifted, lifting his massive bulk with a groan. Leonardo's eyes widened as the pile of debris slid off LH's back, crashing to what was left of the floor. Under the crocodilian, lying quite still, was a flash of olive-green. "I shielded him as best as I was able," said LH, concern and tension showing in every line of his body. Leonardo shifted, desperate to reach his brother, but found his plastron was pinned by a large steel beam. It had landed diagonally across his chest. He drew another gasping breath and felt something move painfully in his chest.

"LH… Is he…" Leo coughed again, barely noticing the metallic taste in his mouth, or the flecks of red which spattered against the beam.

"He is breathing." Leatherhead shifted again, freeing himself. They heard shouts echoing from far off. The crocodilian raised his head, looking around. "It would seem the corridor we were in suffered extensive damage," he growled. "Leonardo, we must escape. They will be searching for… survivors."

"Get Don out of here," said Leo automatically. His brother, as always, was his first priority. Green eyes swam through his darkening vision. _Sierra, I'm sorry. I did my best. I had to take care of my family. _

"Leonardo! You are injured." Leatherhead's voice rose with concern. He shifted again, lifting Donatello, and laid the smaller mutant more carefully down. He approached Leo.

Leonardo shook his head. "LH, get him out," he insisted, unable to raise his voice above a whisper. His chest felt heavy, tight, and stabbing pains accompanied his attempts to breathe.

"I will not leave you," growled Leatherhead. He grasped the beam, lifting it. Some of the weight shifted and Leo found it easier to breathe, but when he tried to move, his arms and legs wouldn't cooperate. They felt leaden, crushed. Leatherhead strained, growling with his effort to move the beam.

"_Leo!_"

The crocodilian's head snapped up at the cry. Scrambling noises could be heard, and the thuds and clatter of bricks being tossed out of the way.

"Mikey, Casey, I found them!"

Relief poured over Leonardo. Bev and Mikey_._ They were all right. They were both all right. He'd protected his brothers. They would get home to their wives. They would be ok. His eyes began to drift closed.

"Do not go to sleep, Leonardo," snapped Leatherhead.

Leo forced his eyes open again, meeting the crocodile's fierce glare.

"It's ok, LH," he whispered. "Just get them home."

"No, my friend," answered Leatherhead. "Not without _you._" He strained again, grunting, and the beam shifted another inch, freeing Leonardo's left arm. Still the turtle couldn't move his limbs.

"I got ya, Leo," Suddenly Michelangelo was kneeling next to his head. "LH, can ya hold it up a minute? I'll pull 'im out."

"Hurry, Michelangelo. I cannot hold this much longer," came the answer.

Mike wrapped his hands around the edges of Leonardo's carapace. "Casey! Gimmee a hand," he called.

Leo heard more scrabbling and swearing as the human made his way over to them. More hands touched his shell. Leonardo closed his eyes, bracing himself.

"On three. One, two…"

They pulled and it was all Leo could do to hold back a scream. His ribs protested the movement violently. Casey and Michelangelo pulled him back, lifting him. The beam crashed to the floor, missing Leo's feet by inches as Leatherhead's grip finally gave way.

"Can you two manage him?" asked Leatherhead. "I will carry Donatello."

"I got 'im, LH," said Michelangelo.

"I'll help you with Don," said Bev.

Leo opened his eyes and met his brother's gaze. "Thanks, Mikey," he whispered, lifting his arm toward Mike's plastron.

"You know we never leave anyone behind, Bro," said Mike firmly. His eyes were clouded with fear. "Just hang in there, Leo. We're gonna get ya back to the Battleshell. You're gonna be ok, Leo."

"Yeah. I'm ok, Mike," Leonardo managed. His eyes slid closed again. He didn't hear Mikey's anguished cries calling his name, or Leatherhead barking orders.

***

"We must leave _now_," growled Leatherhead. "Leonardo is in need of medical attention and Donatello as well."

"Donny?" Michelangelo's tear-filled eyes snapped up to the crocodilian's face.

"He is breathing, Michelangelo, but he has lost a significant amount of blood," said Leatherhead gravely. "I fear without a transfusion, he could be in trouble."

"I agree, LH," said Beverly. She was clinging to Donatello's hand, but moved with Leatherhead, careful not to impede the big mutant as he moved toward the patch of sun showing through an opening in the debris.

"Let's go. There's medical stuff in the Battleshell," said Michelangelo, his voice more firm and calm than Leatherhead had ever heard from the orange-banded turtle. "You an' Bev know how to use it. I can give Donny blood, we've done it before. Come on, Casey, we've gotta get them outta here."

The vigilante nodded. "I'm with ya, Mike."

Carefully, Michelangelo lifted his brother, allowing the human to help steady his head. They began the long journey out of the rubble, following Leatherhead.

"Don't worry, Bro," whispered Mike. "We're gonna get you home."


	43. Chapter 43 Fire and Rain

**A/N: The song, **_**Fire and Rain**_** is by James Taylor. Credit goes to Lyrics *dot* com  


* * *

**_Chapter 43 –Fire and Rain-  
~~~_

Ann walked through the trees toward the clearing the boys used to practice. Raphael had come to her and apologized in his gruff way, but she wasn't quite ready to forgive him.

_How dare he?_ she thought for the hundredth time. _How dare he assume he understands what it's like? _

She hugged her arms across her body. The late summer breeze was cool.

"_She's a victim, Annie. She's not strong enough fer somebody like Leo. She won't understan' our way of life…"_

"_How is she a victim, Raph?"_

"_She let dat guy beat up on 'er an' 'er kid!"_

"_She didn't have a _choice_, Raphael!"_

"_There's always a choice, Ann!"_

"_Do you think _I_ had a choice? When my father was beating on me? When he _blinded_ me?"_

"_Ya coulda left, Ann." His amber eyes burned into hers. "Ya coulda walked out. Ya were old enough. Ya coulda stood up for yerself."_

_***_

Ann scowled, wiping fiercely at the tears that stung her eyes.

_I can't believe that's how he's felt all this time and he's never said anything. We've never really talked about it… I assumed he knew… assumed he understood. Does he really think of me as weak?_

A faint sound had her frowning. She could've sworn she was alone out here. She knew April was in the farmhouse, fretting over Splinter. Austin hadn't come out of her room and Gene and Marjory were preparing a meal.

_For when the boys come home_, thought Ann with a pang. _They will come home. They've got to._ She fought down the fear that threatened to rise up. _They always do. Oh Bev… this is all such a mess. What will we do if they can't get you out? I can't be there for Austin the way you can. I guess I'm just not cut out for this whole family thing. What was I thinking, telling Raph I'd have kids with him? We can't get through a week without arguing. How are we going to raise kids together? _

The breeze shifted and this time the sound of voices was unmistakable. Someone was out here. Ann dropped into an instinctive crouch. She edged through the trees toward the clearing, wary. If anyone discovered the farmhouse, the boys' safe haven, the family could be in real trouble.

_I've seen fire and I've seen rain… I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end… I've seen lonely days when I could not find a friend… but I always thought I'd see you one more time again…_

Ann's eyes widened as the familiar voice drifted through the trees, the song so full of longing and lament it brought tears to her eyes. The soft strumming of a guitar kept rhythm as a second voice joined the next verse.

_Won't you look down upon me, Jesus… You've got to help me make a stand… You've just got to see me through another day… My body's aching and my time is at hand… I won't make it any other way._

The voices blended together, a baritone rumbling low and a rich alto carrying the notes higher.

_I've seen fire and I've seen rain… I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end… I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend… But I always thought that I'd see you again._

Ann stumbled forward, her breath catching in her throat. She tried to move silently, but suddenly the music stopped, as if a switch had been thrown.

"Wait, Raph, it's me," she called out, just as a dark green shadow appeared at her side, the glint of a drawn sai in one hand.

Raphael lowered his weapon, tucking it back into his belt, and shifted, leaning heavily on a crutch with his other arm.

"Ann, you scared us half to death," he growled. "What're ya doin' out here?"

"I was _walking_," snapped Ann. "Last time I checked, that was still _legal._"

"Annie," Raph's voice took on an unaccustomed gentleness. "Ya know I'm sorry, right? What more do I gotta say? I don't wanna fight wit' ya."

"I know, Raph." Ann turned away. "But you really hurt me with what you said. It's going to take a while for me to be ok with that."

"I didn't mean… Ann, I… I was a giant shell-head. I get dat," said Raphael. He laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Raphael?" called a timid voice.

"It's ok, Sierra, it's jus' Ann," he answered. He turned to the brown-eyed woman, pleading. "Annie, come on, come sit wit' us. Please? Sierra's been playin' 'er guitar. She's really good."

"What are _you_ doing out here, Raph? I thought you didn't like Sierra," said Ann a shade bitterly. "Seeing how she's a _victim_ and all."

"We were talkin'. She wanted ta get out o' da house fer a while, an' I said I'd go wit' her. I was wrong, Ann." A growl of frustration was creeping into his voice now. "I _apologized._ She forgave me. I guess… I guess if ya can't do dat, I dunno what else I can say."

Ann shook her head. "I don't know, Raph," she said quietly. "It's not that simple. You can't say the things you said to me and just wave it off with an 'I'm sorry'."

Raphael stared at her, his amber eyes burning with frustration and hurt. He turned away, picking his way back through the trees, leaning heavily on the crutch. Ann watched him go, tears stinging her eyes. She turned back toward the house.

_I'm sorry, Raph, I know you don't understand. You made me feel attacked, judged, like I was a victim all over again. I can't forgive you for that. Not now… not yet. Maybe… not ever._

_***_

Raph made his way back through the trees to where Sierra sat, cross-legged on the ground, her guitar cradled in her lap.

"Is everything ok, Raphael?"

"Yeah."

The woman adjusted her guitar, but didn't begin playing again.

"Are you ok? You look…" She trailed off.

Raph drew a deep breath. "'m fine."

"You guys still fighting?"

Raph looked up sharply. Finally he gave a slow nod. "Yeah. Kinda."

"I'm sorry. Do you want to head in?"

"I dunno. Ann…"

"She went back to the house, huh? Do you want to stay out here a while, then?"

Raphael rounded on the woman. "Good grief, what is dis, twenty questions?"

"Sorry." She watched him steadily, but he saw a flicker of wariness in her green eyes.

"'m sorry," he muttered. "I didn't mean ta yell at ya."

"I didn't mean to pry. You're obviously upset."

"I'm a shell-head," he muttered. "I… I tol' Annie about… about you. An' Hayley. I… I was mad, ya know? I didn't want Leo gettin' involved wit' somebody who'd hurt 'im."

"Raphael, I will _never_ hurt your brother." Green eyes flashed, ready for another fight.

Raph held up a hand to forestall her. "I know. I know dat now, Sierra. I'm sorry 'bout da way I talked ta ya before. See, da t'ing is, Annie…" he trailed off, pain choking him.

"Ann's angry with you because of the way you treated me?"

"Yeah… See, Annie's father used ta hit 'er. I don't understan' why she didn't leave. Why would she put up wit' dat?"

"Raphael, it's not always that simple." Sierra leaned back against the tree. "Ann seems like a very strong person."

"Dat's why I don't get why she stayed." Raph growled in frustration. "An' I don't see why she's bringin' dis up now. I mean, it's in da past, right? So why does she wanna talk about it?"

"Why did _my_ past matter to you?" asked Sierra. "The past is part of who we are. It's part of me, and it's part of Ann. Raphael, you're going to have to accept _all _of her."

"Is dat what dis is about? She t'inks I don't…" He shook his head.

"You're going to have to show her that you respect her. That you always have."

"How'm I supposed ta do that? She won't even talk ta me." Raph paced away, grunting when the cast struck a small tree.

"Give her some time, Raphael," said Sierra gently. "Thinking about these things has probably stirred up a lot of painful memories for Ann. She'll come around. She's a lucky girl."

"Nah," Raph turned. "I'm da lucky one. At least I was, 'til I opened my big mouth."

"It'll be ok, you'll see. A girl'd have to be crazy to give you up," said Sierra. "Can you help me up? It's getting dark, we should probably head inside."

"Ok." Raph leaned down, balancing on the crutch. Sierra gripped his wrist with her good arm and hauled herself forward, stumbling as she instinctively tried to put weight on her injured ankle. Raph grunted, catching her. Sierra stiffened and he let go. She looked up into his amber eyes.

"Sorry."

"It's ok. Yer still nervous aroun' guys, huh?"

Sierra sighed. "Sometimes."

"Annie gets like dat, too," said Raph. "She was jumpy aroun' Splinter fer a long time. But she ain't scared o' Casey."

"Maybe he doesn't remind her of her dad," said Sierra. "What was her father like?"

"I dunno," said Raphael, a growl slipping into his voice. "He was one o' dem lawyer types."

"Well," Sierra straightened, looking at him thoughtfully. "Maybe Splinter reminds her of her father."

Raphael guffawed. "I said he was a lawyer, not a rat."

Sierra shook her head. "I mean his personality. Splinter is very quiet, but there's something about him… He's a very powerful personality. Maybe you should ask Ann about her father."

"What, so she can get even madder at me?"

"No, so you can understand what she's been through," said Sierra quietly. "You can't understand what it is to feel that helpless unless you've _lived_ it, but _wanting_ to understand goes a long way."

"Yeah, I guess so," said Raph.

"Raph! Raphael! Where are you?" April's cry echoed through the trees.

"April? Ape, we're over here," called Raph.

The red-head rushed up, out of breath. "They just called," she said between gasping for breath.

"What's goin' on? Are they ok? Are they comin' back?"

"They got away from Bishop. The building came down. Leo's hurt pretty badly, but Leatherhead and Don are working to stabilize him. They think he'll be ok. Oh, Raph… they're all alive and they're all out. They're going to be ok."

"Leonardo's hurt?" asked Sierra faintly.

"Leatherhead says a beam came down on him, across his chest," said April quietly. "He's got some crushing injuries. They're not sure yet how badly he's injured, but he was coughing up blood and having difficulty breathing. Don has an x-ray and a ventilator he and LH rigged up at the Lair. They took him there for now, so he and LH can get a better idea of how severe the damage is."

Sierra turned away and began limping toward the house.

"Sierra, where're you going?" called April.

The woman didn't answer, just kept on going. Raphael growled with frustration.

"You'd better follow 'er, Ape. She'll fall if she ain't careful. I'll catch up."

"All right."

Raphael watched her go. _Shell, Fearless. Ya better come back ta her. Dat's one heckofa woman._

***

Sierra shoved the door too hard and had to grab for the knob before it could crash into the wall, nearly overbalancing in the process.

"Gene!" she called urgently. The man came down the stairs, carrying a small satchel.

"I'm way ahead of you, Sierra," he said. "I've talked to Splinter. We'll take my van. One of us will come back with the truck later for the others."

"All right. Will Marjory take care of my girls?" she asked.

"Taken care of," replied Gene.

April rushed into the farmhouse, obviously distressed.

"Sierra, what was that all about?" she demanded. "Why did you run off like that?"

"I'm sorry April, but I've got to go back to the city." Sierra turned to face the other woman. "Gene will drive me. Marjory can help take care of Splinter."

"You're leaving?" April was frowning. "But Leo…"

"I have to go to him."

April's eyes went wide with understanding. "Ok," she said.

"I'm ready when you are, Sierra," said Gene.

"Let's go." The woman took Gene's arm, and let him lead her out to the van.

_If you can't come to me, I will come to you. Just hold on. Please, Leonardo… wait for me._


	44. Chapter 44 Breathe

**A/N: _Ootochan_ means "Daddy"**

**Leo's not quite completely done being a shell-head yet. He'd realized that suicide wasn't the answer, but a peaceful slide into death seems welcoming when you're exhausted and in pain.**

**

* * *

_I always thought that I'd see you... one more time again. _  
-Fire and Rain, James Taylor**

**

* * *

**

_Chapter 44 –Breathe-  
~~~_

Leonardo was aware of every breath he drew as if it were fire being drawn into his lungs. He concentrated on keeping a steady rhythm. It was all he could manage, all he had strength for.

_In. Out. In. Out._

Nearby, he could hear Leatherhead and Beverly's quiet voices arguing with Donatello. The purple-banded turtle wanted to get up, to check on his brother's injuries, but the other two were firmly vetoing his efforts.

_It's ok, Donny_, thought Leonardo, drifting. _Everything's ok now. You're safe. Mike's ok. Austin's gonna have her baby and you're all going to be ok. I'm sorry… I wanted to see the baby. I wanted to see Sierra again. _

The pain increased sharply at the thought. Leo closed his eyes, concentrating on setting the pain apart, sinking deeper into meditation. The spiritual plane rose up to meet him, cradling him the way a parent cuddles a child on their shoulder.

_**Leonardo.**_

_I am here. I am willing to go now. They are safe._

_**Leonardo, do you believe in Me?**_

_I believe in Honor._

_**Do you believe?**_

_I do._

_**Leonardo. You have a duty to your family.**_

Leo felt himself frowning. _They are safe. My duty is fulfilled._

_**You have a duty to your family. You have a duty to Sierra. You made a vow.**_

Fear, confusion rose up in Leonardo. He couldn't keep the steady rhythm. His heart began to beat faster, harder, threatening to break free of his chest.

_A life for a life. Honor must be paid._

_**Leonardo.**_

The voice was quiet… once again Leo was reminded of Splinter's gentle reprimand when he'd misunderstood a key principle.

_**The debt **_**has**_** been paid.  
**_

_That doesn't make sense. How can another die in my place?_

_**You would've died for your brothers. Accept the gift, as you would want them to do.**_

"_Leo!"_ The voice was far away, frantic, echoing through the darkness.

_**Your brothers need you. It is not yet your time.**_

The warmth was slipping away, leaving him suddenly lost and alone in the darkness.

_Otoochan! Don't leave me…_

_**I will never leave you nor forsake you.**_

Cold… The cold closed in, unrelenting. He was falling… Leonardo couldn't get the breath to cry out. The pain spiked, blinding him… Agony clawed at his chest, stealing the last remnants of breath. He would've screamed, but there was no air.

"_Leo! _Leonardo!"

Hands clutched at his limbs. He was vaguely aware of flailing, as if he could claw his way to the surface, trying desperately to draw air into his burning lungs. Something cool and hard pressed against his face.

_No! I can't breathe… I'll suffocate…_

Hard hands pinned his arms to his sides. He struggled wildly, but couldn't break the grip. Cold air forced its way into his nostrils and mouth, pushing into his lungs. His chest screamed with protest, but precious oxygen started trickling into his bloodstream. The darkness retreated and he became slowly aware of sounds, voices speaking urgently over him, the rattle of metal and rustle of cloth.

_Where am I? Bishop's lab? No! We blew it up…_

He squirmed, but now he could feel large hands clearly on his arms, pinning him down.

"Leonardo. Listen to me. You must relax. Stop fighting us." The voice rumbled, gruff. It felt safe, soothing the panic.

"Leo," Another voice, strong, soft, reassuring. The familiar voice of a brother. "Breathe. Remember your training. Remember what Splinter said. Slowly."

"D… Donny?" Leo tried to get the word out, but spasms racked him and a coughing fit had him curling involuntarily against the hands still holding him down.

"Beverly, clear that line. Move the mask, don't let blood get into the lines or we'll have to clean them out again. LH, what do we do? If his lung is punctured..."

"I doubt that is the case, Donatello. I believe his lungs are functioning. The crushing injury is interfering with his breathing and causing spasms."

"Leonardo, _listen_ to me. You've got to breathe slowly. Come on, Bro, stay with us. Remember your training. Slow down."

Vaguely, Leonardo was aware of deliberately slowing his breathing.

_In… out… in… out._

"His blood pressure's dropping."

"LH, get that ventilator back on…"

_In… out… in… out…_

It was easier now, the burning pain retreating slightly, as if a brand had been removed from the skin, but still close enough to for the radiant heat to burn. He focused on lying absolutely still, forcing his body to relax.

_In… out… in… out._

"Leo? Leonardo?" Something silky soft brushed his head. A tickling on his cheek, not altogether unpleasant, but he struggled to turn his head away, seeking the familiar warm darkness. Another spasm wracked his body as it struggled desperately to breathe. He felt his limbs go rigid, trembling against the table. Something wet on his cheeks, voices jumbled together… One reached him through the confusion.

"_Don't let him leave… Father God, keep him safe in Your hands… Lord, please help us… I don't want to lose him. Not now… Please Father, God… Abba, I'm begging you…_" The words were whispered, barely spoken, but they pierced his heart.

_I promised. _

Rallying the last reserves of his strength, he forced himself to focus.

_In… out… in… out…_

***

Casey Jones paced across the living area of the Lair. He wanted to break something. Preferably a body part. Several body parts, all belonging to Special Agent John Bishop.

_M' best friend's bro is layin' in there, fightin' fer 'is life, an' I can't do a damn t'ing about it._

He kicked the ancient couch on the way by, but it brought him no satisfaction. Growling, he stalked toward the door. If he couldn't let out his frustration in the Lair, he'd go out and find some punks to take his rage out on.

_Not like I'm doin' any good here._

"Where're you going?"

The voice startled him so badly he spun around, taking an aggressive stance. The girl standing by the lab door stared. Her green eyes were red-rimmed from crying.

"Oh. Hey, uh… Sierra" said Casey gruffly, straightening. "Didn't hear ya comin' out. How's Leo?"

She drew a deep, shuddering breath. Casey flinched, afraid she would start crying, but she swallowed hard and her eyes stayed dry.

"Donatello and Leatherhead say he's not out of the woods yet," she said softly. "But the x-ray showed his lungs aren't punctured. Leatherhead thinks his muscles got crushed under that beam, that's what's causing the spasms and the bleeding is from a crushing injury to the lung itself, but they said it doesn't look severe. All we can do now is wait. Don says his lungs should clear on their own. He's young and healthy, so he's got a lot going for him."

Casey nodded, although he'd understood only about a third of what she was talking about.

"So, he's gonna be ok, huh?"

She nodded. For the first time, he saw a faint smile cross her features.

"Thank _God._" Breathed the man. "Dis calls fer a beer. Ya want one?" He headed toward the kitchen where he knew Raphael had a few brews stashed in the 'fridge.

"No, thanks." Sierra smiled faintly and moved to sink into a chair. "I don't drink."

Casey cracked his beer and came to sit on the couch. "So ya don't drink, huh? Is it a religion thing?"

Sierra shook her head. "No, it's a former alcoholic thing," she said softly. "After… after my divorce, I was…" She closed her eyes, taking another deep breath. "I was a wreck. The hospital put me on pain pills. I got addicted. Then, when that wasn't enough, I started drinking. When six months of drinking myself stupid didn't take the pain away, I went to Gene for counseling and he referred me to a therapist who helped me work through the worst of it. I spent about six months in rehab."

Casey let out a low whistle. "Dat sucks. But yer ok now, right?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I've been out for almost two years and haven't seen my therapist in over a year."

"So…" Casey leaned back, taking a long swig. "Does Leo know all dis?"

Sierra shook her head. "Not yet. I haven't had a chance to tell him." She glanced toward the lab. "I just hope he doesn't hate me."

"Why would Leo hate ya? Raph said he was lookin' at ya like a love sick puppy."

"I didn't mean to mislead him," said Sierra quietly. "I should have told him all this earlier. I shouldn't have kissed him."

"Ya weren't leadin' 'im on, were ya?" Casey scowled. "Leo's a good guy, Sierra. He deserves better dan dat."

"I know," she said quietly.

"Den why'd ya kiss 'im if ya didn't mean it?"

"What? Of course I _meant_ it," she said, looking at the vigilante for the first time. "I just… he's not going to want someone like me. I'm… damaged goods."

The way she said it, so calm and matter-of-fact, made something twist in Casey's gut. He leaned forward, setting the now-empty beer can on the low table.

"Listen, Sierra," he said slowly. "I ain't no expert, an' mebbe I'm outta line here, but I gotta tell ya, I t'ink yer makin' a mistake, t'inkin dat way."

"What? Why do you say that?" She was watching him warily.

"Well, I saw da way Leo was lookin' at ya. An' I saw da way you were lookin' at _him._ Leo… he's a real special guy, ya know? Believe me, we all got stuff in our past, stuff we regret. Bad stuff." He rested his elbows on his knees. "But ya can't let dat rule yer life. Yer bigger than yer past. Ya gotta move on. I mean, lookit me. I ain't much. I grew up poor. The PD's burnt my ol' man's store, an' I've spent twenty years beatin' da crap outta 'em. What'd it get me? Nothin'. But April…" he trailed off.

Sierra was watching him with huge green eyes. "What about April?" she asked softly.

"She's somet'in special. I dunno what she sees in me, but I sure ain't gonna throw it away 'cause o' what I am… It don't matter what _I_ t'ink I am. It's what _she_ t'inks o' me dat matters." Casey gave her a crooked grin.

Sierra returned his smile half-heartedly, her eyes straying back to the lab where the rise and fall of voices continued, less frantic but still in urgent, hushed tones.

"Why don'tcha go to 'im?" asked Casey.

"I don't want to be in the way."

"Donny an' Bev'll tell ya if ya need ta move," Casey told her. "It'd prolly do him some good ta hear yer voice."

"Ok, I will. Thanks," said Sierra. She stood up and started toward the lab. Pausing, she turned to face him. "You're a very surprising person, Casey Jones."

"Yeah. I get dat all da time," said Casey with a grin.


	45. Chapter 45 Peace

**A/N:**

**_Otoosan_- "father"  
_Soko… tenshi_- "There (was) an angel"  
****_Anzen? Daijoobu?_- "(You are) safe? All right?"  
****_Gomen nasai_- "I'm sorry."  
_Kookai shinai de_- "Don't apologize."**

**Minor content warning for Bev and Don doing what married couples do. Nothing graphic. (Sorry Cindy) ;)  
Could it be... this is the... final chapter?  
Wow. Tomorrow is the epilogue.**

* * *

_Chapter 45 –Peace-  
~~~_

Raphael was waiting on the farmhouse porch when the Battleshell pulled into the driveway. "It's about _time_, Head-Case," he growled under his breath.

Michelangelo was out of the Battleshell almost before it stopped, darting across the yard. Austin flew out of the house, almost knocking him over. She spoke sharply in Japanese.

"Aww, Austin, 'm sorry," said Mike, wrapping his arms firmly around her. "I didn't mean ta get captured you know. It wasn't in _my_ plan..."

Austin stared fiercely at him for a moment before melting against his chest. Raph barely heard her speak this time. His eyes widened. His Japanese was rusty, but he was sure Austin was telling Mike off in no uncertain terms. Mikey leaned close and whispered to her. Austin's breathing hitched, and suddenly she was clinging to Mikey, sobs shaking her shoulders. Mike wrapped her up in a protective hug, holding her close.

"It's ok, Austin. We're gonna be ok now," he told her. "_All_ of us."

She nodded, her breath still hitching with sobs. "I love you, _itoshii_," she said. Mikey cupped his hand under her chin and kissed her.

Raph shook his head, turning away. _Women,_ he thought. _Leave it to Mikey ta know how ta handle his. I almost wish I could do dat fer Annie. 'cept I could nevah be as big a chuckle-head as Mike. An' I ain't no good wit' speakin' Japanese.  
_

Casey Jones climbed down from the Battle Shell, striding toward the house. Bailey picked up his head, barking once before laying back down.

"Some watch dog you are," Raph muttered with a smirk.

"What, is he supposed to be big and strong and stand up for himself, too?" snapped Ann.

Raphael spun. "Annie! I didn't hear ya come out."

"Well, _someone's _got to carry all this stuff," she retorted. "Marjory and April are packing up the animals and the rest of the blankets. We're almost ready to load the van." She avoided his eyes.

Raph reached for her arm, but she moved away. "Annie…"

"I've got to go see if they need any more help," she said. With that, she disappeared back into the house.

Raph sighed and leaned down to pick up a bag.

"Hey, Raph." Casey crossed the lawn, grinning. "Ya wanna hand wit' dat stuff?"

"Sure, Head-Case. Catch." Raph tossed the bag, grinning when the vigilante squawked.

"Hey, injured guy here," complained Casey.

"Oh yeah, I fergot," said Raph, feigning innocence.

His friend gave him a dark look. "Shut up an' help me," growled Casey.

"'m comin'," answered Raph. He grabbed another bag and swung down the steps, balancing on one crutch.

"Raph, what're you doing?" April cried, coming out with an armload of blankets.

"Packin' da van," he responded with a scowl. While at first the attention had been nice, Raph was thoroughly sick of everyone fussing over him.

April met his amber gaze and sighed. "All right. Just be careful," she scolded.

"Hey, Babe," Casey strode up. Raphael noticed the tension in the way he was forcing himself to use his injured arm as if it didn't pain him.

"How's Leo?" asked April, her face softening.

Raph rolled his eyes. _Sure, you yell at me fer helpin', but _he's_ a manly man fer ignorin' his injuries._

"I don't know anyt'in more dan you, Babe," answered Casey with a shrug that had him wincing. "When I left, Donny and LH were still workin' on keepin' him breathin'."

"We need to get home," said April softly, turning away. "He needs his family."

"Hey. He's gonna be ok," Casey reached out, catching April's shoulders and drawing her back to lean against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist. April stiffened for a moment before relaxing against the tall man.

Raph turned away, disgusted. _Annie used ta let me do dat, too_, the thought crossed his mind annoyingly.

Marjory Spencer and Ann came out of the house, carrying more bundles.

"Hey, Annie, let me get dat fer ya," said Raph, hobbling across the yard.

"I've got it, Raphael," said Ann coolly, brushing past him. Raph scowled.

"I'll help you, Ann," said Mike cheerfully. He came across the lawn, his arm wrapped around Austin's waist protectively. She seemed determined to stay glued to his side, but let go reluctantly as Mike picked up a bag of supplies. She grabbed a bundle of blankets and followed Mike to the van as if she were determined never to let him out of her sight again.

The three women, Mike and Casey made short work of packing the van. Raph tried to help at first, but got tired of being handed tiny packages to carry and soon stood back, leaning against the porch railing while the others finished the job. Before long they had two crabbing sugar gliders, a large German shepherd, a cat howling his protest over being stuffed in a carrier, and all the supplies they'd brought with them, packed into the Battleshell.

"How're we going to move Splinter?" asked Marjory, smoothing the padded make-shift bed they'd prepared for the rat.

"He's not heavy," said April. "Ann and I can carry him if we need to, but I think he'll insist on walking."

"Is that wise?" asked the pastor's wife, frowning.

"Probably not, but he's very stubborn," said Ann. "It's better not to argue with him."

Raphael looked sharply at his fiancé. _Sierra said mebbe Splinter reminds 'er of 'er father._

"Well, let's go see if he's ready," said April with a sigh. "Maybe we can get him to let us help him at least." The three girls started toward the door.

Raph hesitated for only a moment. "Ann? Can I… can I talk ta ya a minute?"

Ann stiffened, but turned to face him. "What do you want?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Listen, Ann," he swallowed hard, meeting her brown-eyed glare. _Shell, she's beautiful when she's mad._ "I… I was wonderin'… if ya… if ya'd… tell me abou' what yer father was like. Ya know, what it was like growin' up an' stuff." The woman stared at him, shock and hurt showing in every line of her face.

_Aw shell, I screwed dat up._

"Why?" she whispered. "Why would you… why?"

Raph closed the gap between them, reaching out to grip her arms. Ann squirmed, but he held on. "Annie, I wanna… I wanna understand. I… I love ya. I love _all_ of ya. Yer my whole _life_, Ann. I… I don't want dis between us anymore. I wanna understand. Please. Help me wit' that."

Slowly, she leaned into him, laying her cheek against his plastron and wrapping her arms around his shell. Raphael could feel a tension in her, a trembling.

"Annie. Don't let 'im come between us. Please," he whispered.

"I… I'm sorry, Raph," she whispered. Raphael felt as though his heart would fall to the ground and shatter; until her next words tipped it back to where it belonged. "I love you, too."

"We're gonna be ok, Annie," he said softly. He felt her melt against him in familiar comfort.

"Yeah, we're gonna be ok."

***

Donatello stood back, watching the monitor. Finally, finally the crisis seemed to have passed. Leonardo was breathing more easily with the help of the ventilator.

Gene Spencer clapped him on the shell, startling the purple-banded turtle.

"You've done it, Don. He's going to be all right," said the man.

Donatello managed a shaky smile. "LH did most of the work," he said. "He helped me rebuild this ventilator last year. And we never could've held Leo on the bed through those spasms without him."

"He's an amazing person," said Gene. "How's he doing?"

"He's resting now. He was pretty banged up in that collapse, too, but he says he's ok, nothing broken."

"You two are really close, aren't you?"

"He's my best friend, aside from my wife and brothers," confirmed Don with a smile. "It'll be good to have everyone home again."

"They should be here any time now," said Gene. "I have to admit, I'll be glad to have Marjory back. _She_ is my best friend."

"Speaking of best friends," said Don softly. "I have to talk to my wife. We haven't had a minute since we got back... Could you sit with Leo for a while?"

"Sure thing, Donatello," said Gene. "I'll call you if there's any change."

"Thanks, Gene." Donatello hesitated a moment, watching the man. There was something soothing, something strong and steady about the pastor's presence. Don heard the words leaving his mouth before he had decided to ask.

"Gene, would you mind… praying for us? Bev and me, I mean?"

"Sure thing, Donatello," said Gene, looking startled.

"If… if you don't mind," said Don, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. "It's just… well… in Bishop's lab, I saw some test results. I've got to go and tell her. She's… she's going to have a baby, too."

"Donatello! That's amazing. Congratulations." The man beamed. Don nodded, feeling the grin grow on his own face. "I just hope she's as happy about it as I am," he said softly.

"Donatello, may I pray with you now?" asked Gene softly.

Donny shifted. "I… guess."

Gene laid a warm hand on Don's shoulder. The turtle wanted to squirm away, but refrained.

"Father God, please go with this young man as he talks to his wife," said Gene softly as if he were talking to a friend. "Give them Your peace and bring this miracle of new life into the joy of a family who will be so blessed by its presence. Amen."

"Thanks, Gene," said Donatello, feeling suddenly shy, but lighter somehow, freed of some of the terrible anxiety that had been on him since Beverly's capture.

The man nodded, giving his shoulder a squeeze. "Go get her, Donatello."

Don gave the man a shy grin before heading to his room. Beverly was sitting on the bed, wrapped in a soft robe, rubbing at her hair with a towel. When Don came in, she stood up, alarmed.

"What is it? Is Leo ok? Do you need help?"

"Leo's fine," he said, coming close and gathering her close to himself. "Gene's with him." She snuggled against him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and burying her face in his neck. He breathed deeply, her warm scent intoxicating his senses.

"I missed you _so_ much," she whispered.

Donatello's breath hitched as her lips moved against his skin. "Bev..."

"Donny, I... I've got to... to tell you something." She lifted her head to peer into his eyes.

"Bev, I..."

"We're going to have a baby."

Don's eyes went wide. "You knew?"

Bev stared. "_You_ knew?"

"There was a computer. We were searching for you, looking for record of where they were keeping you... I saw some test results... Wait, how did _you_ know? How long have you known?"

Her eyes clouded, filling with tears. "Bishop told me," she whispered.

Donatello's arms tightened around his wife. "He can't touch you now," he whispered. "He'll never touch you again."

"Oh, Donny-san..." Suddenly Beverly was sobbing, clinging to her husband. He moved toward their bed and sat, drawing her down with him.

"Shhhh, it's ok. I'm here now," he whispered, stroking her hair.

"I was scared," she whispered. "I was so scared..."

"Me, too."

She snuggled against his plastron for a long time, until the trembling subsided. Finally she lifted her head, gazing into his eyes. Don touched her hair, brushing her damp curls back away from her face and wiping a tear away with his fingers. Beverly sniffed and reached up, cupping her hand against his cheek. Don felt warmth surge in his gut and a pleasant shiver ran through him as she pressed closer.

"What?" his eyes widened at the intense stare she leveled on him.

"I was scared because I thought I'd lost you," she whispered. "Don't you ever do that to me again."

Donatello chuckled in spite of himself. "I'll try," he said.

He gasped as Beverly's hand came around his neck, drawing him close for a fierce, possessive kiss. His arms went around her automatically, drawing her closer, a frisson of electricity running down his spine, making him shiver again. Her lips found the sensitive hollow above his collar bone and he gasped. "Bev..." he whispered. A protectiveness rose up in him, a desire to possess his wife, so strong it almost scared him. Rolling her over so that she was under his plastron on the bed, he rested on his elbows and peered into her blue eyes. She stared right back, startled for an instant before a slow smile grew.

"I _love_ you, Hamato Donatello," she said softly.

Don lowered his mouth to hers, capturing her in a deep kiss. Finally he broke it off and lifted his head to look into her eyes. "I love you, too," he whispered.

After that, they didn't speak again for quite a long time.

***

Whatever Splinter was expecting as he made his slow way into his home in the first time in almost a week, it wasn't the quiet peace that hung over the Lair. Ann and April hovered behind him. He could sense their worry, but he'd insisted upon making the trek from the truck to the elevator on his own power. He had some pride left, after all, even if his legs did shake slightly as he crossed the man room toward Donatello's med-lab.

"Sensei, shouldn't ya rest?" Raphael's gruff voice betrayed the turtle's concern.

"I will, my son. First I wish to see Leonardo." _And rectify the mistake I made in forbidding him to go. My son, I hope you will forgive me._

"Let me help ya, Sensei." Raphael's strong hand gripped Splinter's uninjured arm, giving him the support he needed to cross the distance to the laboratory.

"Thank you, my son," said Splinter mildly, though gratitude for Raphael's unexpected sensitivity made pride well in his chest. Raph grunted softly in response, leaving Splinter to make his way carefully to his son's bedside.

Leonardo's plastron rose and fell steadily under the influence of a plastic mask cupped over his face. Splinter was startled, but not displeased, to see Sierra Jonstone perched on a chair next to the bed. Her head lay on the bed next to Leonardo's arm, and her hand rested lightly on his plastron.

"Miss Jonstone," said Splinter softly, so as not to startle the woman.

She sat up quite suddenly.

"Oh! Oh, Splinter. Welcome home, Sir. I didn't hear you come in." She got to her feet.

"Thank you. How is he?"

"Donatello says he should wake up again soon. I just sent Gene to get some rest. They're watching for more trouble with his breathing, but he seems… he seems so peaceful now," she said softly. Her hand went out almost involuntarily, brushing over Leonardo's forehead.

"You have become quite fond of my son, have you not?" asked Splinter.

Sierra withdrew her hand as if she'd been burnt. She glanced at him, her gaze wary. "I… I have, Sir. He's… amazing."

"You do realize the depth of his commitment to his family?" asked Splinter gently. "He has a duty, first and foremost, to his clan."

"Yes, Sir." The woman nodded, avoiding his eyes. "I'll… I'll just… go now."

"Miss Jonstone." Splinter spoke quietly, before the woman could flee. Carefully, he made his way around the bed and reached for her hand. She flinched, but let him take it in his velveted fingers. "Miss Jonstone. I believe you are in love with my son. Is this not true?"

"Yes, Sir, but I understand…"

"You misunderstand me, Miss Jonstone," said Splinter quietly. "I only wish to ask if you will take _your_ duty to _him_ as seriously as he takes his duty to his family."

The woman froze. Wide green eyes met Splinter's dark gaze. She swallowed hard. Splinter could feel the tension quivering through her hand.

"Sir, my past…"

"Your past mistakes do not matter, Miss Jonstone," said Splinter quietly. "Only whether you have learned from them."

Sierra drew a deep breath. "Splinter, if he'll have me, I would never leave Leonardo's side," she said quietly. "It's true. I do love him. And I promise you, I would always support him and take care of him as best as I'm able."

"That is all I ask," said the rat calmly, his eyes shining.

Beside them on the bed, the turtle stirred.

"_Otoochan?"_

"Leonardo. I am here, my son," said Splinter softly, moving to touch the turtle's arm.

"_Soko … tenshi…_" whispered Leo. Splinter could just make out the words behind the mask. He smiled, brushing gentle fingers over his son's cheek.

"She is here, my son," he told him softly. "As am I. Rest now."

"_Anzen_? _Daijoobu?_" Leonardo struggled to open his eyes, but it was as if the lids were too heavy for him to lift. His brow furrowed.

"We are all safe, Leonardo," said Splinter. "You have done well, my son."

"_Gomen nasai, otoosan,"_ Leo managed.

"_Kookai shinai de." _

Sierra blinked at the rat's firm tone.

"What did you say?" she whispered, her voice soft, as if she were half-afraid to ask.

"He was apologizing," said Splinter sadly. "I told him not to."

"Splinter? What… what did he say… before?" the woman asked hesitantly.

Splinter smiled. "He said there was an angel. I told him you are still here."

"Oh."

A tear splashed down, wetting Leonardo's arm. Splinter smiled. Reaching out, he took the young woman's hand, guiding it to curl over his son's hand, which rested on his plastron, and covering them both with his own furred fingers.

Beneath the mask, Leonardo smiled.


	46. Chapter 46 Epilogue Happy Beginnings

**A/N:This is bittersweet at its very best. I will not say goodbye, my friends, but will offer you a sincere fare-well. This is not the end... It is just another beginning.  
**

**_Tenshi_ means "angel"  
_Itoshii_ means "beloved"  
_Sai-ai_ means "dearest" or "beloved"  
**

**Yes, there's a reason for the first bit. If you'll recall, Aiko was the Foot who tortured Sierra and died by Leonardo's blade. **

**And now, on to what you have been waiting for. The happy... beginning.**

**

* * *

**_The Lord will keep you from all harm. He will watch over your life. The Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.  
-David, Psalm 121:7,8_

_

* * *

Epilogue -Happy Beginnings-_  
~~~

Masaru stared into the tiny dark eyes peering out at him from the blanket. The eyes… They were Kasumi's eyes. A pang of pain and rage made him want to shake the child, to destroy the seed of his hated rival, but those eyes… He'd loved her once. He'd loved her, but she had chosen the other and the proof lay in his arms, staring up at him through familiar eyes.

She had named the child _Isamu_, hoping to bestow the boy with the courage he would need to rise through the ranks of the Foot, to establish his place in the clan.

_If only _she_ had the courage to live without him. I could have shown Kasumi a life truly worth having. The life she deserved. The life Aiko could never offer her. Now, it is too late. She is gone by her own hand and I am left holding her child… Aiko's child._

Shaking his head with frustration, Masaru laid the child on his own bed. The boy turned his head to look around, his dark eyes wide, but still no sound came from him. He looked curious, interested, but not afraid of the man who'd taken him from his dead mother's breast.

"Your father died in battle," Masaru told him. "And your mother, foolish woman, thought she could not live without him. She tried to take you with her, but she has not succeeded." He leaned closer to touch the shallow cut on the boy's neck. It had stopped bleeding some time ago.

In her final weakness, Kasumi had not cut deeply enough to sever the artery and the child had lived, though her own lifeblood leaked out over the floor of their quarters.

"Now what am I to do with you? Brat of my hated enemy, and the woman I once loved?" Masaru's fist clenched at his side. "I should kill you and be done with it," he whispered. "No one would know if I finished what your mother began." He leaned over the bed, his fingers stretching toward the boy. The child, sensing movement, turned to look at him once more, his eyes wide and curious. _Kasumi's eyes._

Masaru turned away and stalked away from the bed a few paces. Finally he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

"I will not stain my honor with the blood of an infant," he muttered. "Akio did not deserve her. His brat will have no better life than he could've given you if he'd lived, but for your mother's sake, you will will not die."

Powering up a computer at his desk, Masaru did some quick searching through the files. As Karai's second-in-command, he had access to Saki Coorp.'s business records.

"Ahh," he murmured, examining a record. "This will be… quite suitable."

Making a notation in the records, he powered down the computer and turned to the infant, now sleeping soundly on the bed.

"First, Isamu, I will go and notify the maintenance staff of your mother's unfortunate passing. And then, I will deliver you to your new… home."

With a small, cold smile, Masaru left the babe asleep on the bed and swept out of his quarters. It seemed poetic justice that Aiko's son would be raised in an orphanage, never knowing his father.

***

Leonard watched Raphael pace across the farmhouse floor, tugging at his collar. Raph eyed his brother with something close to envy.

"Fearless, ya know dat t'ing makes ya look like a pansy, don'tcha?"

Leonardo smiled, unperturbed. "My hakama's a lot more comfortable than that tux, Raph," he responded. "Relax. You and Ann have been engaged for almost a year."

"Yeah well, it took you almost eight months to pop the question ta Sierra," Raph shot back. "Geez, Fearless, what were ya waitin' for?"

"I had to be _sure_, Raph," said Leo softly.

"Sure she wasn't leavin'? She never left yer side all da time ya were recoverin'. It was pitiful, Leo, you hobblin' aroun' da Lair like an ol' man, wit' Sierra practically glued ta yer shell. She even stayed after Gene an' Marjory lef' town an' went up North."

"I had to be sure she'd say 'yes'." Leonardo smiled, but he couldn't quite hide the shadow of pain. _I had to be sure I was strong enough for her._

"Leo, have ya _seen _da way she looks at ya?"

Leonardo felt his cheeks getting warm. "Yeah…"

Raphael guffawed. "An' yer jus' as bad. Geez you two're like a couple o' teenagers."

Leonardo's blush deepened. "Well we haven't been together that long," he said.

"An' tonight's the big night, huh, Bro?" teased Raphael.

Leo shot his brother a dark look. "Grow up, Raph."

"Oh, come on, Leo. You two've really waited eight months?"

Leonardo nodded and Raphael guffawed, clapping his brother on the shell.

"Dis is a time ta celebrate. I dunno how ya did it, Bro. I couldn't keep my hands offa Annie for eight _days._"

"It wasn't easy," said Leonardo fervently.

Raphael laughed. "Easy there, Tiger," he teased. "Ya gotta get through the wedding."

Leonardo shook his head. _It meant a lot to Sierra to wait. She's worth waiting for,_ he thought. _But I'm glad the day is finally here._ _Still… How'm I gonna get through this?_

Fear and longing warred in his heart, as it had every day since he'd woken up in Don's lab, with a ebony-haired woman sitting in a computer chair beside his bed, her head resting against his arm. He'd been afraid to move, for fear of waking her, for fear she was a dream who would disappear if he woke up. Then she lifted her head, her green eyes flickering open.

_Leonardo…_ from her, his name sounded so beautiful tears stung his eyes. And then, she'd smiled at him and even the respirator didn't make breathing any easier.

A familiar squawk from the living room had both turtles turning.

"Skylar," said Raph. "Ya t'ink she's ok?"

Leonardo smirked at how his brother's hands twitched, as if he'd pick the baby up from the next room.

"Splinter and Gene are out there. I'm sure she's fine."

"Yeah." Raph grinned. "Splintah's lovin' dis grandfather t'ing."

"I know."

"I don't remember 'im bein' so soft wit' us when we were little," remarked Raph.

"Well, he's not the only one responsible for Skylar. When he had us it was just him," said Leo seriously.

"Yeah well…"

Leo frowned. "You know he did his best."

"I know, Leo," growled his brother.

Understanding dawned. "Raph… It wasn't Splinter's fault." Leonardo put his hand on Raphael's bicep. "You know that, right?"

"I jus' don't like t'inkin' we coulda lost ya," muttered Raphael.

"It wasn't Sensei's fault. I wasn't in my right mind."

"Dat's another t'ing. Ya never did tell us what happened out there, Leo." Raphael's amber eyes burned into his brother's face. "Ya went out inta da woods, an' when Gene an' da girls brought ya back… You've changed, Leo. What happened out there?"

Leonardo hesitated. He'd spent a lot of time talking to Sierra and Splinter and reading the book Gene had given him, coming to understand just Who the Voice was, but he hadn't been able to talk to his brothers about the experience. "I found... my honor."

"What?"

"Listen, Raph, I'll tell you all about it, I really will." Suddenly, Leo knew he could tell them. He was ready to share what he'd discovered that day, but a glance at the clock had his heart speeding up. "It's almost time. Let's get through the wedding and stuff, then you and me will sit down and I'll tell you everything, I promise. Ok?"

Raphael stepped forward, his gaze burning. He leaned close to Leonardo. Leo had to fight the urge to back away.

"Umm, personal space, bro," he said with a weak laugh.

"Don't you _evah_ so much as _t'ink_ about doin' somet'in like dat again, Fearless," said Raphael fiercely. "Or I swear I'll beat da shell outta ya _myself_."

"You got it, Bro," said Leonardo seriously. "I give you my word of _honor._"

Raph nodded sharply, stepping back. "Come on. Let's go get married."

Leo grinned. "Yeah. Let's do this."

***

Sierra adjusted the sleeve of the pale blue kimono she wore nervously. Her ebony curls had been swept up into a neat bun. Austin bustled around behind her, tucking in stray curls, but they were unraveling faster than she could repair her handiwork.

"Oh… it's no use, Sierra. Your hair just isn't made for the traditional Japanese look," said Austin.

"Can't we try some hairspray, Austin? I really wanted this to be a special day for Leo," fretted the woman.

"It _is _a special day, for both of you," Ann spoke up. She twitched the flowing white silk of her skirt up in order to move over to Sierra. She reached up, adjusting the obi gently and gave the other woman a smile. "You look _great,_ Sierra. Austin, why don't we just let some of the curls fall out, like this…" She picked a few stray strands and arranged them so they hung loose, framing Sierra's cheeks.

"Are you girls nearly ready in here?" Marjory Spencer bustled into the room. She caught sight of Sierra and stopped short, her hand flying to her mouth. "Oh… Oh, you girls look so lovely!"

Sierra shook her head, smoothing her hands nervously over the kimono. Ann let out a gusty sigh. She grabbed Sierra by the arm and led her to the full-length mirror April had brought from home.

"Look at yourself, Sierra. You look _great._ Leonardo is going to _pass out_ when he sees you."

"Good grief, I hope not," muttered Austin. "We've got enough to do keeping Bev on her feet."

"She'll be fine as soon as that baby is born," said Ann. "Remember how sick _you_ were, Austin?"

"Ugh, don't remind me. I thought I'd never stop throwing up."

"And now you never stop running," said Marjory with a smile. "Skylar's a handful."

"Just like her dad," answered Austin.

"What's going on in here? Are you girls ready yet? Gene says they're starting in twenty minutes, whether you're out there or not." April came into the room grinning, wearing a blue kimono, but without the kanji that decorated Sierra's. She gasped. "Austin! You're not even dressed yet!"

"Well, I've been busy with Sierra's hair and Ann's dress…" the woman muttered.

Sierra slipped toward the door. The room suddenly seemed crowded and airless. She moved through the living room. Hearing a faint squawk from the bedroom, she smiled.

_Austin is busy_, she thought. In the bedroom, a bundle stirred in the small portable crib that had taken Michelangelo and his brothers nearly two hours to set up. Sierra crossed the room and scooped up the baby.

"Hey there, Skylar Raine," she whispered, ticking the tiny green chin. The baby looked up at her with Austin's hazel eyes. She was already wearing the tiny blue kimono. "Are you ready to help your Uncle Leo and me get married?" asked Sierra, smiling. "Uncle Usagi is outside. I know he can't wait to see you in your pretty dress."

_She looks so much like her dad, but with her mom's eyes and hair,_ thought Sierra. _I wonder if Beverly's baby will be the same. She is so different from Hayley at this age, but still so beautiful._

She smoothed a gentle hand over Skylar's silky brown peach-fuzz hair, her fingers finding the soft spot on the back of her neck where it met her small shell. She caressed it gently.

"You are gorgeous," she whispered. The baby smiled, gurgling contentedly.

"You're so good with her."

The voice had Sierra spinning, startled. "Leo!" She felt breathless with his dark eyes on her. "You're not supposed to see me before the wedding," she scolded, turning to lay the baby back in the crib. Skylar kicked, squirming comfortably on the mattress.

Leo smiled. "I know, but I wanted to check on Skylar. I didn't know she already had her aunt _tenshi_ to look after her."

"Oh, Leo," Sierra smiled, a flush creeping up her cheeks. Leo crossed the room. Sierra watched, her heart beating a little faster. His muscles were defined clearly through the silk hakama and the blue rippled as he moved as if he were wearing water. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders, drawing her near, and reached to tickle his niece's chin, drawing a happy gurgle from the baby.

"You're going to be an amazing father someday," said Sierra without thinking.

Brown eyes stared into hers, shocked. "…Father?"

"Well, I mean… if you… wanted kids." Sierra felt cold and hot at the same time. _Why would he want kids? He's already got such a big family to look after…_

He stared. "You… you would want… I mean…"

Sierra saw his throat move as he swallowed.

"Leo, it's ok," she said gently. "If you don't want children, I understand."

"Sierra… I just never thought… I mean, you would… consider it?"

"Leonardo." Sierra looked up, meeting his eyes. "I never thought I'd have a chance to be this happy. To… to have a second chance at being a mother…" Tears slid down her cheeks and she ducked her head to hide them.

Leonardo's hand cupped her chin, lifting her face. His dark eyes stared into hers.

"Sierra, I know you loved Hayley," he said quietly.

"I _do_ love her, I always will," said Sierra softly.

"Having another baby won't replace her," said Leo gently. "She'll always be your firstborn."

"Yes. But, Leo, we could… if you're willing… we could try."

"Oh Sierra…" His arms came around her, crushing. The shyness, the timidity of the past eight months was gone. He held her close to his plastron as if he'd never let her go. Sierra clung to him, burying her face in his neck. Tears flowed down her face, wetting his skin and mingling with his own.

"Sierra…" Leo's voice was husky. She lifted her head, and his mouth descended on hers. She met the kiss eagerly, her hand coming up to cup his neck, to pull him closer. His arms felt strong and firm around her. She could feel his hands clearly against her back through the silk kimono and suddenly the thin material was entirely too bulky. She wanted him, all of him. It was sweet torture to feel his mouth against her own, exploring, burning, yet being denied the feel of him against her bare skin. A leathery hand came up, brushing her neck, sliding under the collar of the kimono…

"What on earth? Where have you two been?" Marjory Spencer's voice broke the couple apart. Sierra felt flushed and at the same time chilled by the loss of Leonardo's touch. Her emotions had her reeling.

_Where did _that_ come from? We've kissed before, but nothing like that. I guess I was worried for nothing. He not only loves me, he _wants_ me as well._

Leonardo reached out, taking her hand in his own. A thrill of electricity ran up her arm from the contact and she smiled, feeling content and secure. Her doubts about their ability to come together physically had melted under the heat of that kiss.

"It's time," said Marjory, scolding, though a smile crossed her features. "Honestly. I thought we'd have to keep an eye on Raphael and Ann, but here I find you two sneaking off. Let's go and get you legal before giving little Skylar any more cousins, shall we?"

Sierra shook her head, flushing. "Marj," she muttered. "You're the _Pastor's_ wife, remember?"

"The good Lord invented sex, Sierra, Dear," said Marjory blandly. "He told Adam and Eve to go forth, be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth. Sounds to me like He thinks it's a great idea. But let's do get His blessing on this marriage first, ok?"

Leonardo stared, and Sierra burst out laughing.

"What am I getting myself into?" muttered Leonardo.

Sierra squeezed his hand, working to stifle her giggles. "It's ok, I'll protect you," she said softly.

Leo's arm came around her shoulder, catching her close. He lowered his mouth to hers once more, capturing her in a deep kiss. This time Marjory didn't comment, only turned to the crib and picked Skylar up.

"Don't be too long," she said softly before carrying the baby out of the room.

Leonardo broke off the kiss and stared into her eyes. "I'll do the protecting around here," he said softly.

Sierra smiled and nodded. She reached up to trace a finger along his collarbone, drawing a gasp and a shiver from her intended. "As long as you always do all you can to come home safely to me," she said softly.

His skin moved under her fingers as he swallowed.

"I promise," he whispered. "Always."

***

Gene was waiting under the arbor the boys carved for Donatello's wedding. It had been re-painted and freshly varnished. The roses climbing up the sides had been painted in bold shades of blue and red, mingling and climbing up the sides. A single carved rose at the top of the arbor was a delicate shade of yellow. Sierra felt a lump in her throat when she saw it.

_I painted it for Hayley,_ Leonardo had explained when he showed it to her. _So she'd be a part of your special day._ Sierra hadn't been able to speak, had just thrown her arms around his neck, weeping, but she knew he understood.

Leonardo went ahead down the narrow corridor between the rows of folded chairs, as dignified and confident as could be, though Sierra could see the faint tremor in his hands. He joined Usagi and Donatello at the altar. Don smiled broadly and even Usagi gave Leonardo a small bow and said something in his soft voice Sierra couldn't quite catch, making Leo flush and smile.

Next, Raphael followed his brother, his black tux off-setting his dark green skin and giving him a dangerous look. Sierra smiled, seeing him surreptitiously tug at the jacket again. She knew the tux wouldn't last long after the ceremony. Casey Jones waited at the altar for his friend, and Michelangelo flanked his other side, grinning widely.

The girls followed, Austin in her pale blue kimono carrying Skylar as the flower-girl. Beverly followed a bit awkwardly in her red bridesmaid's dress, followed by Angel in a red dress. Finally came April in her kimono and it was time.

Splinter came up between Ann and Sierra so quietly she startled when the rat touched her hand.

"Daughters," he said quietly. "The time has come."

Sierra dared give his velveted fingers a gentle squeeze. Ebony eyes flickered up to meet her gaze and he gave her a smile. Together, they walked down the aisle to where the boys were waiting.

***

**Three weeks later…**

Sierra lay cuddled against Leonardo's side, her arm resting across his plastron, her head against his shoulder. She turned her head into the hollow above his collar bone, nuzzling his neck. He shifted, stretching his free arm over his head and rolling toward her, bringing his arm down to curl around her shoulders.

"Good morning, _tenshi_," he whispered. Sierra shivered with delight as his hand found the small of her back, caressing in small circles through her thin slip of a nightgown.

"Good morning," she answered, lifting her head to smile into his eyes. "_Itoshii."_

Leo's eyes went wide. "You've been practicing."

"Yes. Austin is helping me."

A wail rose from somewhere in the Lair, echoing and Leonardo groaned. "Sounds like Skylar's awake."

"No," said Sierra firmly. "That's Kouki."

"You can tell them apart?"

"It's a mom thing."

Leonardo smiled, resting his hand on her abdomen. Sierra looked up, feeling a familiar thrill of warmth at his touch. She was continually amazed at the way her body responded to his, as if they were made to fit together. Leo had been awkward at first, shy, and Sierra uncertain, but with nervous laughter and patience, they were learning.

"It's nice that Bev named him "hope", said Sierra softly. "It's such a beautiful name."

"Did you know Austin chose his name?" asked Leo softly, his hand moving, making it difficult for her to concentrate on the conversation.

"Bev told me. Austin said it was a gift to her and Donny. She says that _Yoshi_ is his name by right, as the first male born to your brothers."

"_Hamato Kouki Yoshi_. Splinter was thrilled."

Sierra smiled, remembering the tears that stained the rat's dark fur the first time he held his grandson. She gasped as Leonardo's hand brushed against a sensitive place on her hip. His dark eyes met hers, intense.

"_Sai-ai_ Leonardo," she whispered. "Don't you ever get tired?"

"Not of you," he answered, cupping his hand against her cheek and brushing her hair back.

The tender moment was shattered with a shout.

_Mikey! Come get yer kid! She's chewin' on my sai!_

_Hamato Raphael, how many times have I told you to put those things _away! Austin's answer echoed through the Lair, her voice high with fury.

Sierra buried her laughter against Leo's shoulder. His arms came around her, drawing her close, and she felt his chuckle rumble through his plastron.

"Welcome to the family," he whispered.

She lifted her head to kiss him again. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

* * *

_***END***_

* * *

**A/N: And they lived happily ever after...**

**Or at least... the story went on. Because my dear readers, I have come to the conclusion through recent events in my own life, that there is no true happy ending save for the eternal one... and that is a happiness that doesn't end. **

**If we aim for the goal of the "happy ending"... the peace when the kids have moved out, that dream job we're working toward, whatever that may be, it's possible to miss out on the happy moments along the way. In striving for a happy ending, we may miss out on the real treasure, the time we have in the here and now.**

**Onward to the thanks... Thanking you all for your reviews is becoming a more daunting task! But I appreciate each and every one of you. You've made me laugh, brought me to tears, and at times have influenced the story itself, engaging in the process. No writer can ask for more.**

**It may interest you to know how I go about making this list. I go back to the reviews page and re-read them, chapter by chapter, listing the names in the order that they first reviewed. When a particular review jumps out at me, I mention what it was that caught my attention or made me laugh in the acknowledgments. Sometimes it's difficult to keep my thanks short! In some small way, I hope these acknowledgments give you back some of the joy you've shared with me.**

**This story in particular contained many small things which held a deeper meaning to me personally. Hayley's life, and death, in particular were part of the larger story of my own family. In this book I have shared more of myself with you and appreciated your interactions more than ever before. Thank you.  
**

**Thanks and cyber cookies go out to:**

_**raphfreak**_**, who has beta-read all four of the stories in this series, for reading, for plot bunnies, for silliness and laughter, and for calling me a "meanie-head", which is how I knew when a cliff was steep enough. heh**

**_54 Viruses_ who also beta'd some of the books, helping me with grammar and commas and knowing when I was getting off track.**

**_Melody Winters, FairDrea_ and _DuckiePray_ who read bits here and there and reassured me about Leo's journey and who pushed me past my comfort zone to write things I might not otherwise have done.**

**There are others, some mentioned above and a few more who were not, who have been faithful friends, sending encouraging PMs and e-mails both through this series and through life events. Thank you. You mean more to me than you may ever know. Our influence over the internet may be limited, but friendship cannot be bound by geographical considerations or the limitations of the media. I have grown and changed through knowing you and for that, I am eternally grateful.  
**

**Thanks to:**

**_C_**_**haozButterflytheory **_**for a lovely review  
**_**Charisma B **_**for guesses on what would happen next  
**_**HarmonyWinters **_**for venturing into an unfamiliar fandom to read :)  
**_**xLannyx**_** for wanting Leo to get married in the next chapter five chaps in. heh  
**_**Ramica **_**For the time and effort she puts into supporting and promoting the Fandom through the Fan-Fic awards and her thoughtful, well-crafted reviews.  
**_**Named After Irony **_**for telling Leo "it's about time"  
**_**54 Viruses **_**for "If anything happens to Raph... to the anti-Ann shelter!" which made me ROFLOL  
**_**DuckiePray**_** for inspiring me to try romance and for amazing the amazing fics she's written which invariably make me more emotional than I thought fiction could.  
**_**Lilliette **_**for liking the theme of Leo's Angel  
_Cindy Silverwhip_ for... everything. hugs  
_BlackShuriken_ for calling me an "evil woman" which made me lol  
_Candelight _for friendship, for amazing writing, for a gift fic which I will treasure always. _Ki o tsukete kudasai, _****_Imouto._  
_Kyraserin Marii _for reading on a tiny little screen... for taking these fics with her into difficulty and for "Hello Darlin'", which will make me laugh out loud randomly for many years to come I am sure. Prayers are still going up for you.  
_sait4soreyes _for thinking Sierra and Leo are "right", which is one of the kindest compliments on writing I've ever received.  
_Fantasyfan4ever _for liking Leo's 'first impression'  
_Scribe of Turesa _for making Bishop the turtles' friend... just not in THIS fic. ;)  
_TigerToa _for offering to babysit the chibis and for a prophetic review to chapter 14 "Leo's gonna kill them..."  
_Melody Winters _for chats, for amazing art, for being a good friend and a great person.  
_WebMistressGina _for a rare but sincere compliment which I treasured: "I've seen improvements over the first one you posted" :) and for loving twists  
_Mew Sakura _for thinking chibi-turtles are "cute like when Donny blushes"  
_mariarosa _for "Leo's gotta crush! Leo's gotta crush..." and calling Bishop "a crazy mofo" LOL  
_xS. E. Raglandx _for thinking LH is a "teddybear at heart" (which made him blush and stutter worse than Donny.) lol  
_Polaris'05 _for making me crazy with cliffies of her own, for threatening Bishop with economics, for an ADD "shiny snow!" review that made me laugh, and for making it all the way to chapter 6 before she started screaming. LOL  
_xHitsulover_ for getting interested  
_Eistir _for expanding my vocabulary! Tot morgen! and for "Leo, there is this river in Egypt..." LOL  
_NightwatchersUnknownGirl_ for excitement  
_AlyssaFelixa _for trusting Leo to handle the dispatching of villains for her  
_The Happy Stalker Ball _for a nice review  
_jadedolphin _for laughing at Mikey's lame jokes and for wanting to drop-kick Bishop out of the story  
_April 101_ for kissing Leo and freaking Raph out.  
_Eridani123 _for hoping the baby will be ok  
_GodessHanyuu_ for loving sugar gliders and for very cute chibi-art (see the chapter 17 reviews for the link)  
_Viridis Lupus _for threatening to personally beat up Bishop on Leo's behalf.  
_sabra jaguar _for being on the other end of the wires, and for holding fast to faith in happy endings  
_Ellmarr_ for bad puns heh  
_AJ'sHellcat_ for liking "badass Gene"  
_Fyrefly_ for enjoying Sierra's artistic process, for a quote which will stay with me "you've got to use your words like a lance", and for smiling for a long time after reading Raph's proposal to Ann  
_FairDrea_ for threatening to steal Sierra off of Leo O.O ROFLMSOBO! Silly girl. hugs and for... comments not made. ;) (chapter 17... a certain title and worries about lightening...) LOL  
_brainfear _for wanting more  
_wavespirit_/_TeenageMutantNinjaHamster_ for getting "addicted" and for forbidding Leo to kill himself  
_Westhaven18_ for wanting longer chapters  
_Reepicheep22_ for appreciating how Christianity was used in the story  
_Mewfem_ for a nice review  
_Whitewolf89_ for saying it when I wouldn't: "happy endings, happy endings, happy endings"  
_lynzyb _for wondering who was taken by Bishop in chap 26  
_Arcanum Callow_ for a nice review of chapter 29  
_MaiMai127_ for noticing details  
_Casey_ for reading the series  
_Amicitia _for a very nice review! Thank you.  
_Black Cat Angel_ for liking the romance  
_drunken lotus _for a happy dance  
_sugar plum fairy_ for a nice review****

* * *

If you have read this far, you deserve a prize. heh So here it is. The reason for the first bit of the epilogue is... there will be a sequel to this series. I'll announce it on my profile when I'm a bit further along. I've started writing it, but this will be an even bigger challenge, so it's going to take me a while.**

**Also, look for Dark Chocolate Turtles sometime in the future, a one-shot sequel. And I may, if time allows, have to write a Christmas one-shot leading into the larger sequel later on.**

**Once again, thank you for taking the time to read and to review. Thank you for engaging in this process, for being part of the support system which has rebuilt my confidence in my own ability as a writer and in a less-direct way may have contributed to a healing process in my marriage. **

**Remember, kindness is never wasted.**

**God go with you all as you journey.**

**Rejoicing in the day the Lord has made,**

**-Mary**


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